


Avenging Love: Revival

by xsimkat



Series: Avenging Love Series [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, F/M, Friendship/Love, Post-Captain America: The First Avenger, Post-Iron Man 2, Pre-Avengers (2012), Pre-Iron Man 3, Protective Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-13 20:54:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14756135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xsimkat/pseuds/xsimkat
Summary: Phoebe Reynolds’s first expedition to find Captain America was a flop. With a year to dig up new clues, create a triangulation using the location of the tesseract, the shield, and supposed hunches, Phoebe gets a call from a Russian oil team: Captain America’s body was found. Fury assigns Coulson and Phoebe to the job. Phoebe takes this as an opportunity to thank her childhood hero for protecting her when she couldn’t protect herself… in a way she never thought possible.





	1. Arctic

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song “Take Me Home” by Jess Glynne cover by Ryan Dolan.  
> This is the story of how Steve Rogers and Phoebe meet and develop an unspoken relationship. <3

***

September 13, 2011

_Captain Steven Grant Rogers_

_Born: July 4, 1918 (KIA)_

_Pre-serum: 5’4, 95 lbs_

_Post-serum: 6’2, 220 lbs_

_Some pre-serum health problems included:_

  * _Asthma_
  * _Chronic colds_
  * _High blood pressure_
  * _Sinusitis_



_and dozens more_

 

“I didn’t realize he was that sick,” Phoebe said. “Your dad always said he was frail before the serum, but I never imagined…” And she couldn’t imagine it. She knew every chronic illness sufferer had good days, bad days, and days where the illness existed under the person’s skin, just enough to be a constant reminder that it was still there, just not causing horrendous pain at that very moment in the day.

“Yeah, I didn’t realize it either until I dug up those old files,” Tony mused.

Tony was in New York City for two reasons. One, he bought a condemned building in Midtown and was signing the paperwork today to begin the demolition. And two, he found a ton of files on Steve Rogers and his Howling Commandos that Phoebe might enjoy looking at before her second trip to the Arctic. The only thing Tony removed from the box were blueprints for weapons and ideas that Tony decided were a little too violent for the world’s tastes now. But of the remaining files was the map that helped Tony find Phoebe when she had been captured by Strucker and Karpov as well as detailed journal entries from Steve’s diary, Bucky’s diary, and notes from the Howling Commandos about the war as it progressed without their beloved Captain.

Phoebe sifted through the box, finding a notebook filled with equations and doodles in the margins, as well coins from the 40s taped inside. “Mr. Stark had a tendency to hoard everything when it came to science.”

Tony laughed and thumbed through the notebook. “Mom used to get on him for that. The man had an entire downstairs lab to work in-”

“But he always chose to work in the garage.” Phoebe laughed. “I don’t know how she put up with all of his experiments and brilliant ideas.”

Tony flashed her a smile. “The same way you put up with my experiments and brilliant ideas.”

Phoebe and Tony read through the entire box of files and memorabilia in hopes that _something_ would help them triangulate the remains of Steve Rogers, but there was nothing that could help. Most of it was more mission reports, pictures at Whip and Fiddle. There was one that took Phoebe by surprise: a picture of Steve and Peggy. Steve was dressed in his official military attire, while she looked gorgeous in a knee-length dress and curls. Phoebe made a mental note to visit Peggy in England soon. She set aside the photo from the box, along with a few stock photos of Captain America during his propaganda days.

“Did Howard keep any of Steve’s propaganda films?” Phoebe asked, curious as to whether they still existed.

“No. Peggy kept most of them,” Tony answered as he stacked the files neatly back inside the box. “I’m sorry this wasn’t much help.”

“That’s okay. It was nice to take a journey back to the 40s for a while. I always wanted to live in that era.”

Tony chose not to hide his amusement. He knew Phoebe a little too well. “You wouldn’t have lasted more than ten minutes in the 40s. You hate dresses, for one thing. Peggy still had to wear knee-length skirts to work. Not to mention World War II finally paved the way for women to work in non-stereotypical jobs.” Tony paused. “Then again… you’d look damn fine on the ‘We Can Do It’ poster.”

Phoebe tried to picture herself as the model for that particular wartime poster, but she just couldn’t see anyone besides Naomi Parker. The woman’s a national icon. “Alright, maybe I would be better suited as a visitor than a resident of the 40s,” she admitted after she thought about it. “But you gotta admire the simplicity of that era.”

“I’d rather admire it from the 21st century, thank you.” A beat and he changed subjects. “So, are you are ready for your expedition with Agent Coulson?” Tony asked.

Phoebe set the box next to the Iron Man suit. “I almost don’t see the point in going. We have two coordinates. Where the Cube was found, and where his shield was found. But without a third point, how we can narrow down the search grid?”

Tony had a simple answer for that. “You don’t.”

“Exactly,” Phoebe agreed.

“What happened the first time you went with Coulson? It was during your vacation from SHIELD, right?”

Phoebe nodded. “We went to the arcti, searching 100 miles radius from where the shield was found, but we came up empty. It was like searching for a unicorn. Totally useless. We spent three months out there, and then I come home to find you with one foot in the grave.” She was talking about Tony’s palladium reactor that began poisoning him last year. His blood toxicity was at a whopping 37% by the time Phoebe returned. Phoebe helped Natasha and Fury create something that wouldn’t cure him, but would at least help him long enough to find a solution for himself.

However, Tony wasn’t on speaking terms with Phoebe.

“And the other foot was in my mouth,” Tony groaned at the memory of being so rude to her. It burned him on the inside. “I’m sorry I was such a dick. You made a choice and instead of respecting it, I…” Tony shook his head, wondering how on Earth Phoebe managed to keep her cool that day.

“In all fairness, you were dying, and even if I was polite about telling you how I felt, I could’ve chosen a different time to… well,” Phoebe stuttered.

“Reject me?” Tony offered. Phoebe nodded slowly. “I just wish it didn’t have to take a destructive Russian trying to kill both you and Pepper for me to realize how you both fit in my lives.”

“I’m just glad that everything is okay. You’re okay, Pepper’s okay-”

“And you? Are you okay?” Tony asked.

Phoebe raised a brow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“And the nightmares?” Tony pressed on, earning a look from Phoebe. “I know how long they can last, Phoebe. You’re not alone here.”

The tone of the conversation went in a wildly different direction, and Phoebe wasn’t prepared for it. She held a brave face despite Tony gently pulling for an answer. Truth was, the nightmares about her time in captivity were still very much existent. Some nights were better than others, where only the images of Hydra’s symbol haunted her. Other nights, she wasn’t so lucky. Those were her bad nights. Nights when she could _feel_ the burn of the shackles constricting her flesh and her powers, _hear_ her own plea for Karpov to stop what he was doing before her plea turned to screams. She’d wake up in a night sweat and need to strip her sheets, take a shower and change into new clothing. Those nights were the worst.

“I’ll be fine. Really, Tony,” Phoebe assured, and she prayed he’d not dig any deeper.

“Is it terrible that I worry about you, Phoebe?”

“Of course not,” she said. Her voice changed, sounding more serious. “But when I say I’m fine, I mean it, and I don’t expect you or anyone else to second guess that.”

Tony sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Tony walked into her kitchen and grabbed a beer. “Do you want one?”

Phoebe was so busy looking at her phone that she didn’t even notice Tony had gone into her kitchen. “Uh, sure,” she said, sounding distracted.

_New Text Message from: Phil Coulson  
May have caught a break. Meet me outside._

“Actually, scratch that, Ton,” Phoebe said. “Coulson’s downstairs. We may have caught a lucky break.”

“Do you have to go now?”

“He said to meet him outside, so I’m assuming yes.”

“Iron Man can grab your bags if you’d like,” Tony said with a wink.

“I think I’d rather have Tony help me,” Phoebe asserted, giving him a knowing look. Tony smiled and he swung her bag over his shoulder, following her down the three flights of stairs to the main lobby.

Phil Coulson sat in a corner, tinted glasses over his eyes, and a newspaper in front of him. He flagged Phoebe and Tony down. “Ah, Mr. Stark, what brings you to New York City?”

“I bought a piece of property here and I’m here to sign the paperwork,” Tony said in a rehearsed tone he used when being interviewed by the public.

“I saved a few key files of Howard’s to bring with us,” Phoebe said, handing a small packet to Coulson.

“Great,” Coulson said. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Coulson waited in the car while Phoebe and Tony said their goodbyes.

“I know this isn’t going to happen but try not to get into trouble while you’re gone,” Tony said.

Phoebe gave a hint of a side-smile. “I’ll try. Are you going to video call with Dr. Banner while I’m gone?”

Tony held up three fingers. “Scouts honor.”

Phoebe pulled Tony in for a hug. “Thank you. I know you guys have been working in between other projects, but I really appreciate it.”

“We’ll call you if we find new information,” Tony assured her, his voice just above a whisper.

“See you later, Ton,” Phoebe said before placing a kiss on his cheek and waving as they drove away.

Off to the Arctic, they went.


	2. Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoebe and Coulson discuss their shared admiration for Captain America. Phoebe makes an amazing discovery.

***  
September 13, 2011

“I overheard you say Dr. Banner’s name before we left. I didn’t know that he and Stark were in contact with each other,” Coulson said out of blue. They were currently flying first class in SHIELD’s jet to Russia, where they would meet up with a few members of the oil team who will escort them to the crash site.

“They met this past summer,” Phoebe said without looking up from her novel. She was reading a vampire-inspired book by Kresley Cole, and she found herself deep in the throes of the characters.

“How did they meet?”

Again, Phoebe refused to look up as she answered, “It’s complicated.”

“Agent,” Coulson said.

Phoebe drew in a breath, releasing it loudly. “I lost my powers, okay?”

Coulson blinked. “I’m sorry, did you say ‘lost’? As in…?”

“As in they appear one day temporarily, and they’re gone the next,” Phoebe said. “Whatever _they_ did to me,” she swallowed, holding back the emotions threatening to spill out at the mention of _them_ , “it messed with my powers.” Phoebe looked down at her hands, fiddling with them nervously. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get them back, or if the serum even pumps through my veins anymore. Tony and Dr. Banner have been working for the last 6 months to try to fix me.”

Coulson leaned back in his seat, taking it all in. He seemed genuinely sympathetic for Phoebe. “I’m sorry.”

“These expeditions have been a nice break from constantly worrying about it.” It was nice to be away from New York City, from her apartment, even from SHIELD hovering over her. “I still think about it but finding the Captain’s body is a welcomed distraction.”

“I know what you mean,” Coulson said, smiling at the mention of his childhood hero. He reached above them and pulled out a duffle bag. “I never got the change to show you these,” he mumbled, pulling out a scrapbook with vintage style cards tucked neatly in plastic sleeves.

“Wow,” Phoebe said as she grazed over the cards. She found one Captain America holding three USO girls on a motorcycle. “These are incredible.”

“They’re mint,” Coulson swooned. “It took me years to collect them. My dad gave me my first card when I was ten years old.”

“I was about 7 when I started reading the comics,” Phoebe confessed. She’d never forget her father handing over comics from the 1940s. “Howard learned that I was sick and he gave my dad a stack of Captain America vintage comics. I read the first five comics cover to cover with a flashlight under my blanket until three in the morning.” This made Coulson laugh because frankly… he’d do the same thing.

“Agent Coulson, Agent Reynolds, we will be landing in approximately five minutes. Please buckle in.”

They landed in the snowy alps that was Russia. A deserted airport, for the most part, except for the two Russian military trucks that were waiting for SHIELD’s arrival. Phoebe refused to let the fact that they were in Russia ruin the expedition. Coulson was unaware where she was kept and unaware of a majority of what happened. She’d like it to stay that way. Director Fury, Nat, and Tony were the only ones to know the entire story.

They climbed in the truck, finding the interior fancier than America’s military trucks. One thing Phoebe loved were the heated seats. She founds them to be extremely comfortable during this freezing weather. When they got to the scene, a few other SHIELD agents were already there, going over how they were going to process this.

“What’s the word?” Coulson called to his colleagues.

“It’s the Valkyrie, sir,” one of them said, shining their flashlight in the direction of the crash site.

“Are you kidding?” Coulson asked, his voice raised an octave as he walked towards the shining lights without even considering Phoebe. He was acting like a kid in a candy store.

Phoebe trudged behind Coulson through the snow, cursing silently that she wished she brought ear muffs. Her ears burned with the sting of the frigid temperatures.

_Her legs were numb to the point she collapsed in the snow. Her socks were frozen solid, jagged edges cutting into her feet and ankles like razor blades. Each step took an hour it seemed like, as she forced her stiff, rigid muscles to move. And keep moving. She had to keep moving. She had to escape._

It wasn’t until Coulson spoke that Phoebe returned to reality. “Phoebe? Are you coming down?”

 _Get it together, Reynolds,_ she cursed to herself. She walked up to the small circle and peered over it, gauging what was in there. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Phoebe’s first guess was accurate. There was nothing inside but drifted snow in the corners. The rest was pitch black until she was given a flashlight to look for herself. They walked around, checking things out when Phoebe slipped, and her foot fell through a gaping hole and into a pile of snow, hiking up her snow pants. She hissed at the cold contact to her flesh.

“Are you okay?” Coulson asked, hooking an arm under hers and pulling her up.

“Yeah,” Phoebe groaned, shaking off the snow and shivering. “My butt’s a little bruised, but that’s okay. It matches my dignity.”

Coulson chuckled and watched her wiggle her ankle around to make sure she was okay. “Could’ve been cut up pretty good. God knows how much tetanus is on this ship.”

“I’d rather not think about that.”

She walked off the ache in her ankle and found herself admiring the German buttons and gadgets on the control panels. Phoebe didn’t speak a lick of German, but she did recognize something else. A compass. She picked it up. It was frozen, of course, but what she was shocked to find when she dusted the snow off was Peggy Carter’s picture glued in the top. Phoebe was aware there was a special connection between the Captain and Peggy based on Steve’s diary and a few choice conversations with Mr. Stark. This was something to hold onto, she decided, and she stuffed the frozen object in her draw string bag before anyone could notice.

The team began to sift through the piles of snow for any signs of the Captain. Phoebe felt strange walking around in the same aircraft that Steve was in before he… well… before it happened. May as well clear the rest of the snow drifts, she thought. She dug near the control panel, eventually hitting blocks of ice that had accumulated. She got out an ice pick, prepared to chip through some of the ice when a gut feeling took over.

It was nothing like she’d ever experienced before. She wiped another section of snow off.

That’s when she saw it. A hat with a big “A”.

“Oh my god,” Phoebe gasped to herself. “Coulson!” She dug furiously, chunks of snow falling down her pants, shirt and mouth, but she didn’t care. Coulson walked over just as Captain America’s face was unveiled. Phoebe imagined a symphony playing in his mind when Coulson met the body of Steve Rogers.

He collapsed next to her, a hand over the Captain’s star. “Let’s get him out of here.”

***  
September 13, 2011

Coulson was very conscientious as the Russian oil team chipped at the edges of Steve’s body, cautioning them to be careful. Phoebe swore he never blinked the entire time they were trying to thaw him out. When they got his body detached from the bottom of the control panel, it took a special device to lift him and place his encased body on a metal table-like stretcher they’d found in the ship. It worked fine for what they needed at the time.

“We have to thaw him completely,” one of the Russian oil team members said. “Unless you want your plane to flood.”

Phoebe turned to Coulson. “Does Fury know?”

“He does. He wants us to do a full assessment when we get to the lab. Then we’ll have a tombstone made and see that he gets a proper burial,” Coulson said, staring at Steve’s body. He retrieved a card out of his pocket. It was one of his trading cards. His favorite. With Captain America saluting, USO shield in his other hand. He put away and looked at Phoebe. “You did good.”

“He deserves to be honored,” Phoebe locked arms with Coulson. “The world’s first superhero.”

“What a day,” Coulson sighed with a smile.

“Yeah,” Phoebe glanced at the entrance, noticing the sun setting over them. “What a day.”

***  
October 7, 2011

  
_“You are the first person to successfully receive the super-soldier serum since Captain America. That is quite the accomplishment. You must feel proud of yourself, yes?”_

_“I have no idea what you’re-”A backhand hit her hard across her face._

_“Lies!” Karpov shouted. “Tell me what I want to know!”_

“No, I can’t,” Phoebe muttered in her sleep as she tossed and turned.

_“We want to learn more about you. Our tests should provide us with the information we need.”_

_“If you need my blood, please just take it. I don’t want any tests. Please.”_

“Please,” a soft please escaped her lips, her eyes screwed shut and a bead of sweat formed at the crown of her head.

Phoebe sat up in a cold sweat, panting hard. She took a moment to breathe, to try to remember where she was, but that only made it worse. Her stomach dropped to the floor when she realized she was just off the coast of Russia. Using Stark’s technology, a quinjet was flown to their location on auto-pilot, operated by JARVIS. That was where Coulson, Phoebe and their team were sleeping for the moment. The floor was not that comfortable, but it was better than sleeping in the snow.

The nightmares occurred at least once every other night since her kidnapping, but she had a solid week where she slept peacefully. When she found Captain America. She stood up, finding herself drawn to the man on the metal lab. He looked peaceful. At rest.

Phoebe wished she knew what real rest felt like.

“You did a very brave thing, Captain,” Phoebe whispered. “I know I sound like a crazy person for talking to a dead guy, but if your soul is chilling up in heaven, I’d like to think you can hear me right now.” She laughed at herself. Was she really having a conversation with the body of Steve Rogers? She must be nuts after all. “You sacrificed yourself, and by doing so, you changed the world. Because of you, America is free. We won the war. It wasn’t without regrets and sacrifice on our part, but we did win. Thanks to you.”

“Can’t sleep?”

Phoebe was startled. “Damn it, Coulson.”

Coulson offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I overheard what you said. I thought it was nice.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t know where life ends.”

“This is true.”

“So… why are you up?”

Coulson shrugged. “It’s almost sunrise, so I figured I’d get a head start and see how the defrosting process is going.”

“So far it looks… slow,” Phoebe shrugged. “But slow is the best way. I think I know the answer we’ve all been asking ourselves.” She looked at Steve’s face. “It’s called cyrosleep. The low temperatures act as a preservative to tissue. I can see how that works for body decomp, too.”

“Where did you see this?”

Phoebe paused, remembering the mystery man, who was probably dead now that Strucker had gone on the run with Karpov. “When I was captured, there was this man. He looked scared, like he wasn’t sure where he was or who he was. He was placed in this device that looked like a stand-up tanning bed, only more high-tech. They didn’t even give him any sedatives. I watched helplessly from across the room as they froze him inside. His voice, his screams… they still haunt me.” A beat. “I hope Steve was gone before it,” she gestured to the icicles dropping off of his gloves, “happened.”

Coulson frowned. “It sounds horrible.”

“It did. It sounded like he was dying,” Phoebe said. “I hope you didn’t suffer,” she said in a hushed tone to Steve, placing her hand over his exposed face. She touched the sheer ice on his face, ignoring the steam of their different body temperatures melting together.

 “What’s going on, Agent?” Coulson called, but his voice was muffled, like she was in another room.

But she wasn’t. She right next to him. She felt like she’d been buckled in a roller coaster and she couldn’t get off. The rush of power impaled her right where she lived, and her hands glowed purple, melting the thin layer of ice on his face until she was touching his cold, smooth skin. Dizzy, lightheaded and surprised, Phoebe closed her eyes because this was too much. She was too overwhelmed. But she couldn’t tell what it was that was overwhelming her. Her eyes remained shut, and not because she wanted them to, but because she didn’t have enough strength to open them.

_Fear._

“Oh my god,” she gasped, eyes open like saucers.

“Phoebe?” Coulson didn’t know what to do. Phoebe looked terrified, as if she’d seen a ghost.

“He’s alive. Steve is alive.”


	3. Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoebe bonds with a frozen Steve Rogers.

***  
October 7, 2011  
 **Phil**

Phil Coulson believed in an afterlife. He believed that life doesn’t end with death. The dead are a part of our society, in their own plane of existence, watching over us and guiding us. But what he didn’t believe was that someone could come _back_ from the dead. Steven Grant Rogers was the acceptation.

SHIELD had scientist and medical personnel flown out to study the body within the hour. By nightfall, they were examining every inch of Steve’s body.

“How is this possible?” Coulson asked, still in shock.

“We’re not sure yet,” one of the scientists said under their hazmat suit as they held a heat-regulated device over Steve. “How did you know he was alive?”

Phoebe looked up from the corner where she knelt, wanting to stay out of the way and process what happened to her. “He has a pulse,” she lied.

These were contractors of SHIELD, not actual agents. She didn’t trust them enough to share her secret. Besides, her powers had worn off and were gone once again. Unstable, unreliable, just like her own emotions.

“It’s extremely faint,” the scientists said with a frown, like he was unsure. “But you were right about the ice. It’s preserving his body in the same state it was in when he crashed the plane. The serum probably aided in his preservation as well.”

“Can he hear us?” Phoebe asked, curling her legs against her chest. She was nervous about touching him again. Afraid that she could have another emotive outburst, except this time in front of strangers.

“I’m not sure, but I do know that we have to take this very delicately. We can’t pretend to know what we’re dealing with here.”

Coulson hadn’t moved from Steve’s body except for when his phone rang. He returned with a hand over his speaker “I have the director on the phone and he is not thrilled with how much time we’re taking on this mission.”

Phoebe frowned. It had only been two weeks since they landed in the Arctic. Last time, it took them three months to get back to headquarters, so why was two and a half weeks such a big deal?

“Tell him we need more time, and if he has a problem with that, he can take it up with me,” Phoebe said. She looked at Steve. Part of his arms and torso were no longer frozen under ice, but his waist down still needed to defrost. She wondered what he was thinking. Maybe he was in a coma like she was after her experiment. If only she had a way to communicate with him…

“There’s nothing more we can do except fly him to New York and do more tests,” another scientist, different from the first one, said. He seemed to be the leader of their group because he was always instructing the other scientists to follow him and take notes for him.

“Tests?” Phoebe repeated back to him. The word made Phoebe jittery. “You can’t just treat him like a lab rat. Take some blood, do a body scan with a functional MRI machine, but don’t probe him like a pin cushion.”

The scientist looked at her questionably. “Those were exactly the tests I was going to conduct.”

Phoebe felt the flush in her face deepen. “Oh. I’m sorry. I just think Steve should be treated like the hero he is, is all.”

“Of course,” he assured her.

“Wheels up in thirty,” Coulson said. “Let’s head back to New York.”

***  
November 28, 2011  
**Phoebe**

Phoebe had another mission waiting for her in California when they returned to work, but after taking down the three war criminals, she returned to NYC and stayed. She had a chance to catch up with Tony while he was visiting again – he specifically requested they do it on this day, as it was a sign of the ultimate good luck – 11/11/11. Tony admitted that he was a little jealous that she got to see Steve Rogers in person before he did.

“It’s not like he could talk,” Phoebe said during their coffee date.

“Yeah, but you _saw_ him. Half our childhood was spent listening to Dad’s stories about ‘Captain America, the world’s first superhero’,” he muttered in air quotes.

“He lives up to the photos,” Phoebe admitted, blushing. “Even in the ice, you could tell the serum did its job.”

“I’m sure,” Tony said with an eye roll. “Dad knew what he was doing.”

“That’s why I trusted him with my experiment,” Phoebe said, frowning slightly. “Not that it matters now. My powers fluctuate faster than it takes to blink.”

Tony acknowledged that Phoebe was clearly angry. “Well, Bruce and I think we found the why in that equation thanks to the molecular x-ray device we developed.”

Phoebe’s eyes and ears perked. “Do tell.”

Tony casually stirred his coffee, smiling at the waitress when she came by for the _fifth_ time to “check” on them and see if “they” needed anything. Of course she meant Tony, the amazing Iron Man. Once she was gone, Tony turned his attention back to Phoebe. “Your molecular structure is in a spasm, kind of like a back injury. The structure is moving around so much that your powers are unstable, too. But because you still have the advanced healing factor of your cells, they are compensating for the imbalance by constantly repairing any damage your molecules are causing.”

“So, in English: is it life-threatening?”

“If your healing factor were to stop working, then yes, it could be. But that’s not gonna happen because now we can focus on fixing it.”

“That’s great news!” Phoebe said, smiling wide. Finally, something good. “Thank you so much, Tony. You’re a life saver.”

Tony paid the bill despite Phoebe insisting on handing him money, and he gave Phoebe a long hug. “I’d do anything for you. You’re stuck with me, remember?”

Phoebe kept her smile as she leaned in to his chest, feeling his heart beat in an even pace next to his arc reactor. “There are worse things,” she conceded.

***  
December 13, 2011  
 **Phoebe**

  
Now in New York City, Steve was defrosted and moved to a 1940s-style vintage apartment mirage to minimize the shock value. During the work week, Phoebe would usually take her paperwork and put the desk in his room to good use. At first, Fury wasn’t thrilled about it, but when Phoebe told him what Stark said about her powers, he understood that she needed to spend time with the only other person who could possibly understand being a volunteer for experimentation. The doctors weren’t sure if Steve would ever wake up. His brain didn’t show much activity, other than what was required to keep him alive.

“Oh, what a day it’s been, Cap,” Phoebe said as she limped into his room. “I got the jump on the terrorist who was getting ready to fire a missile at the Empire State building. But he kind of threw me off the building.”

Steve didn’t move, but Phoebe noticed that his eyes sometimes twitched.

“Completely normal for a coma patient,” the doctors had said to her the first time she noticed it. She practically dragged the doctor inside and demanded every protocol be taken to see if he was conscious.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. There’s a reason I always keep a set of grapples on my belt. It actually reminded me of one of your comics… the fifth issue, I think. You were stopping a Hydra base and you came face to face with Red Skull. He fired one those enhanced weapons at your shield and it repelled you out of a window. You took the shield, held it with both hands and swung, embedding it in the building with only a few stories between you and the pavement. Then you ripped the shield out of the concrete and used it to protect you from the rest of the fall. There was a child in the next panel. He had your shield on his shirt and when you stood up, you smiled at the boy, and the way the artist drew his eyes was incredible.”

Phoebe brought a few comics with her today to tell Steve all about what they’ve written about him since he’s been asleep. She opened the fifth issue, finding the exact panel she was talking about. She had to admit, the way they drew Captain America was nothing compared to how he looked in real life. Steve was muscular, that’s for sure, but the definition of his toned body was subtle. Of course, it was a comic book, after all.

“I bet if you had the chance to draw your own comic book, you’d probably draw your muscles a little less… bulky. I mean, I get that defining expressions, character features and attributes is important, but it seems like all they care about is showing that Captain America as this huge, hunk of a hero and that’s not all you were.” A pause. “I read your files about who you were before the serum,” Phoebe recalled. “The notes Dr. Erskine made. The first phrase he wrote was, ‘Steve Rogers has the humility and bravery of a soldier despite his rejected papers’. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a bestseller to me.”

She scooted to the edge of his bed and touched his calf.

Nothing.

“It was worth a shot,” Phoebe sighed, pulling back. “I can’t tell you, but sometimes, I can understand what you’re thinking.”

Steve’s lips twitched. Phoebe watched carefully, hoping for a flutter or a flicker in his eyes, but after several minutes, nothing happened. Just him breathing softly. In, out, in, out.

“You’re not going to need sleep anytime soon, Cap,” Phoebe joked. She looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost 7:00 PM. “Wow, I’ve been here for four hours. Time flies when you’re having fun.” she chuckled. “I better leave before Shi- the SSR commander comes after me. Sleep tight, Steve,” Phoebe said softly, ghosting her hand over his. Her hand glowed purple and a tear built in the corner of her eyes. She immediately grabbed both of Steve’s hands. “Steve? Steve, can you hear me?”

_Worry._

“No, Steve, don’t worry. Please,” Phoebe cried. “What it help if I stayed? I can stay. I can stay with you.”

_Relief._

“Okay, I’m staying.” Phoebe wondered what else she could possibly talk to him about. “Since you can’t actually laugh at me, I guess I could talk to you about my childhood.”

_Content._

“You won’t feel that way after I tell you what a terrible childhood I had,” Phoebe said, frowning.

_Gloom._

“No, I wasn’t abused or anything like that,” she quickly dismissed the thought, trying to send happier vibes to him through her powers. She was amazed that her powers had maintained for this long, and she refused to let go for fear she’d lose her connection. “My childhood wasn’t like the child called ‘it’, thank God.”

_Confusion._

“Nevermind,” Phoebe said. “I grew up with a mother who had cancer from the day I was born. She refused medical treatment so she could carry me to term. The treatment would’ve caused her miscarry, and she was just lucky to have been able to have a child. And I was lucky to have her. For what little time she was with me. She died when I was 2, a few days after my birthday. Dad didn’t like to talk about her much, but he loved talking about one thing: you.”

Phoebe could have been seen as crazy for laughing out loud with Steve, but not everyone can understand Steve’s thoughts like Phoebe could… literally.

“He loved talking about your adventures. Sometimes he would read me old newspaper clippings about the war and what you were up to. Sometimes I think he made up stories using you as the main character.” Phoebe leaned closer to Steve, whispering in his ear. “Just between us, he tended to be a little overdramatic with your stunts.”

_Amusement._

“I thought it was, too,” she admitted with a shy laugh. “But I liked listening about your adventures, so I went with it. Besides, it’s not like I had anything else better to do in my room all day.”

_Questioning._

“What? Why I had nothing else better to do?” Phoebe sighed. “I was sick. It started with headaches when I was 10. By 12, my stomach started to hurt, leaving me curled in bed until I had to get up to go to the bathroom. I went three days without food at one point because the pain of my stomach digesting food was too much. By 15, the pain had moved from headaches and stomachaches to neck pain that descended my arms, making me feel like my bones were made out glass. I was diagnosed at 16 with fibrositis,” Phoebe said, making sure to use the word coined in the 40s for fibromyalgia. The one rule was Phoebe was to talk to Steve as if they were still in the 1940s.

_Sadness._

“Don’t feel bad, Steve,” Phoebe said. “I’m healthy now. Besides, I got write a lot of stories and watch _The Three Stooges_ to my heart’s content.” Phoebe yawned, realizing that it was almost 8:00 at night. The glow of her hands started to fade. An hour of being able to talk to him was damn well worth the concentration. “Steve, I have to go now. But I’ll be back soon. I promise…” Phoebe trailed off, closing her eyes and trying to keep her hands glowing long enough for-

_Goodbye._

Phoebe opened her eyes; the glow was gone.

So was their connection.


	4. Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick Fury decides to place Phoebe back into the field, but Phoebe is bound and determined to remain with Steve. Phoebe's powers are still on the fritz.

***  
December 25, 2011  
 **Phoebe**

“I brought you something to put under your little tree.” Phoebe placed a red, white and blue wrapped present with a red bow under the tree and gave his hand a quick squeeze. Every time she touched him, she hoped her powers would corporate with her, but truth be told… she hasn’t been able to feel his thoughts since the beginning of the month.

To lift both of their spirits, Phoebe decorated Steve’s room in Christmas décor, despite every agent giving her strange looks. She didn’t care. Coulson was the only agent that thought it was a nice gesture. He even helped her put up the Christmas lights on his walls.

“Have you gotten any better?” Coulson asked Phoebe when they left Steve’s room. “With your powers, I mean?’

Phoebe shrugged. “Sometimes I feel like they are finally getting better, then they just stop working. Tony seems to think the solution lies within Steve’s blood. If they can isolate the balanced molecules in his blood to balance mine so I can have more control.”

“So why don’t we take a sample of Steve’s blood and have Dr. Banner create the formula?” Coulson asked as if it were the simplest thing in the world. But it wasn’t that simple. Well, okay. It was. But there was more to it than just making the formula.

“I’m not going to use Steve to solve my problems. He’s dealing with enough. I just… I can’t do that to him.”

_“Whatever they did to me… it messed with my powers. I don’t know if I’ll ever get them back, or if the serum even pumps through my veins anymore.”_

Phoebe shook her head at the memory of when she first told Coulson of her power struggle and headed towards their locker room.

Coulson refused to back down. “You have feelings for him, don’t you?”

Phoebe continued walking down the hallway, purposefully avoiding his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. How can you have feelings for someone you’ve never met?”

“But you’ve managed to do what it takes most people their entire relationship to do… you understand his thoughts and feelings on an entirely conscious level.”

“Jealous?’ Phoebe asked with a smirk.

Coulson chuckled. “No,” he answered, but then pressed his lips together, thinking. “Okay, maybe a little. But that’s not the point. Whether or not you have introduced yourself, you know the more intimate parts of him, and by talking to him as often as you have been, he knows who you are, too.”

Coulson walked out of the room, leaving Phoebe to stew on that thought. As she gathered her purse and jacker, a picture was revealed on the inside of her locker. It was the one picture she had of her dad, Howard Stark, Dr. Erskine, and Steve right after the experiment. When she first saw that image, she licked her lips at the shirtless Steve, but now when she looks at it, she sees _Steve_ , not Steve’s body.

 _Goddamn it, Coulson. I hate when you’re right_ , Phoebe thought as she shut her locker and left to walk home.

Merry Christmas, Steve.

***  
January 1, 2012  
 **Phoebe**

_“If you behave, you can become an agent of Hydra.”_

“Go to hell…” Phoebe mumbled through her night sweat, tossing through the cotton sheets and twisting herself in all different directions. “I’d sooner die…”

_“Then you shall die.” A hand gripped her throat. “This is what you want, yes?”_

Phoebe gagged out loud, holding her throat with one hand and punching at her pillow with the other. This wasn’t happening again… it couldn’t…

_Droplets of blood slipped down to her collarbone. Air was quickly running out of her lungs as she kicked her legs violently as if that would help her regain any life in her lungs._

_“To feel death at your fingertips. To kiss it tenderly with your very last breath and welcome it with open arms. This is your fate! Swallow it!”_

Phoebe realized she was awake, begging for the air that she already had all the access in the world to. She centered her breathing by shutting her eyes and concentrating on her focal point: her father’s lab. Phoebe loved visiting him at work. Mr. Stark would bring Tony and they’d play in the main lobby, making so much noise that the receptionist up front would hand them money to get ice cream around the corner just for some peace and quiet.

Peace and quiet. That’s what Phoebe felt now. She exhaled deeply and opened her eyes. What time was it, anyway? Phoebe rubbed her eyes and groaned when she saw it was 3 am.

Happy New Year, Steve.

***  
February 14, 2012  
 **Phoebe**

After morning coffee, the second thing Phoebe did was peak into Steve’s holding room to get the latest update from whomever was on watch.

But she couldn’t do that today because Nick Fury had requested her to report in his office first thing. She went to the elevator and reached to press Nick Fury’s floor when her hands instinctively ghosted over Steve’s. Phoebe thought about going against Fury’s orders. Coulson’s conversation constantly repeated in the back of her mind whenever she visited him. It dawned on her that he may have had a point.

Was she falling a man she never met?

“You wanted to see, sir?” Phoebe asked, stepping inside and closing the glass door behind her. It tinted as soon the hinged clicked along with the rest of his glass windows seeing into the hallway.

“I think it’s time to put you in the field again. I have an assignment for you and don’t even think about getting out of it,” Fury said, eye narrowed at her. His voice was low, rough and demanded her attention.

Phoebe knew there was no getting out of it. But the idea of leaving Steve was not something she was ready for. “Sir, are you sure that is the best idea? Of course I will go if you need me to, but you know the situation with my… abilities. What if something goes wrong at the wrong time?”

“What is something goes wrong at the right time?” Fury countered. “You can’t stay here, Phoebe. You’re all caught up on paperwork, and while I have appreciated your help with my own paperwork, I don’t feel you are living up to your potential as one of my agents.”

“You do know I’m the only agent who can give you an accurate read on Steve Rogers’s status?” Phoebe tried to reason with him.

“This mission shouldn’t take more than a week to complete,” Fury rebutted, handing her the file. “You need to get out.”

Code for: You’re growing too attached to your case.

“You talked to Coulson,” Phoebe deduced, shutting the file firmly.

“He was looking out for your best interest.”

“My best interest is not his concern.”

Fury’s voice deepened. “But it is mine. And I say your best interest is concerning. Steve Rogers being alive means the scales of good just dramatically tipped in our favor, but we don’t know if or when he will wake up, so you may as well go be of use to SHIELD while we wait.”

Phoebe couldn’t argue with her boss. She agreed to the mission and left Fury’s office and went straight down to Steve’s floor. Outside of his bedroom, Phoebe stopped to talk to the person on watch.

“How is he today?” Phoebe asked her fellow agent on watch. A pretty woman with red hair similar to Agent Carter’s. She was dressed in the standard SSR women’s attire.

“Sleeping like a baby,” the agent answered dully, leaning against the metal square studio. She’s filing a nail. “This job is so boring. I thought when I joined as an agent, I’d be going on life or death missions, but instead I’m stuck babysitting a coma patient. The only plus side is he’s fucking gorgeous to look at.”

Phoebe bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted iron on her tongue she was so pissed. If the woman wasn’t already back up against the wall, she would’ve done it herself. “Do you have any idea what the man has been through? He sacrificed himself so we could have freedom. He is not just a random person you’re getting paid to babysit. He is a fucking hero. I would gladly switch places with you, but sadly, I have to get on a plane and go to Texas to stop a drug cartel from shipping thousands of kilos of heroin across the border.” Phoebe eyed the agent with fire surrounding her eyes. The woman had dropped her nail file somewhere in the middle of their conversation, and her bottom lip looked like it was having a seizure.

“You’re not even worth it,” Phoebe hissed, taking a step back. “Keep an eye on him. That’s a direct order from your superior,” she added, flashing her clearance badge to the agent, who only nodded feverishly, bending over to pick up her nail file.

Phoebe walked in Steve’s room and threaded her fingers through his hair. “Hey, Steve, it’s me, Phoebe. I came by to say hi and that my good friend is going to watch over you while I go on a mission with the SSR,” she said softly, almost like a quiet whisper. For once, she didn’t want her powers to activate right now.

She just wanted it to be her and Steve right now without his emotions and thoughts guiding her. She wanted to rely on her heart.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can and I’ll tell you all about it. We’ll talk about some of my favorite memories, if you want. I know you like hearing about those.”

Phoebe expected nothing in response. But she felt something tap her leathered leg. She looked down. Steve’s finger touched her leg, moving back and forth In a slow circle.

“Oh my god,” Phoebe whispered, tears stinging her eyes, but she didn’t care. “You’re going to wake up in no time. I just hope you remember me when you do.”

Phoebe didn’t want to go. She tried to get Fury to see her side, but after he said it was either complete the mission or take early retirement, she was on the next quinjet with Natasha and Clint to Texas to complete her mission. On the plane, Phoebe’s powers glowed, and she leaned against the wall. Every emotion she felt – her own, especially – brought her to a silent cry.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Steve.

***  
March 17, 2012  
 **Phoebe**

The mission took a month, not a week. A month of sneaking from Texas to Mexico tracking lowlifes with nothing to do. A new SHIELD uniform was in order after this mission. Torn up, bruised, and wishing she was anywhere but stuck in a quinjet with a broken wrist being tended to by an irate Natasha.

“You could have died from that fall,” Natasha said, giving her a stern look.

“I’ve done worse,” Phoebe mumbled, wincing.

Natasha had grabbed her wrist on purpose. “This is exactly why Fury wanted you in the field.”

“So I could get hurt and not be able to visit our coma patient?”

“So you could keep your skills up.” Natasha frowned. “You’re usually just as good as me and I was running circles around you these last few weeks. You just started to pick up the pace this week when we’ve finished the mission.”

“I know,” Phoebe admitted, pulling her wrist away from Natasha and finishing the wrap job herself. “I was rusty. I think it’s more than just Steve. He’s a huge proportion, in all fairness, but he’s not the only thing.”

“Your powers,” Natasha realized.

“Tony did more digging and he isn’t even sure if Steve’s blood will bring them back completely. It could go down one of two ways. His blood could bring my powers back to full strength, or it could just balance my molecules to a normal state where I’m just me… with the advanced healing and durability.”

“So what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is I like my powers, Nat. When they work, I can talk to Steve. What if he never wakes up? I’m the only person who can communicate with him and be his advocate. What if the formula makes me normal? Who speaks for him then?”

Natasha nodded. “So you’re risking your life for a scenario that may not even happen.”

“Oh, come on,” Phoebe retorted coldly, “Don’t do that. Don’t turn it around and make it out like it’s more than it is.”

“I’m not turning anything!” Natasha shouted, getting angry. “You’re the crazy person who is risking your life for a crush!”

“It’s not a crush!” Phoebe yelled over her.

“No, it’s not,” Natasha replied. “It’s love.”

“I…” Phoebe’s face reddened. “I don’t know what it is. But it’s not a crush.”

“All I’m saying is you don’t know what will happen with Steve. For all we know he’s awake now, eating popcorn and catching up on classic tv re-runs.” Natasha sat in the co-pilot seat and took over for Clint, who said he was getting some kip before they landed in a few hours.

Phoebe coddled her wrist, holding an icepack over it to bring the swelling down. The pain was dull and constant, but not super painful. Her pain tolerance helped a lot. Too bad it didn’t help with emotional pain.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, Steve.


	5. Welcome to the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wakes up 70 years in the future and discovers who Phoebe is.

***  
April 13, 2012

**Steve**

The first thing Steve saw when his sight came to was the ceiling fan swirling in the same motion over and over.

“Pearson pitches a curve ball, high and outside, for ball one. So the Dodgers are tied four to four…”

 _Hmm, so the Dodgers are tied again,_ Steve thought as he moved his fingers, toes, wrists and ankles. So he had movement in all of the important areas. Good sign.

“But the crowd well knows that with one of his bat, this fellow’s capable of making it a brand new game again…”

_Wait a minute._

“Just an absolutely gorgeous day at Ebbet’s field.”

Steve sat up, placing his feet on the floor. His muscles were stiff, but he managed to tilt his neck and look around the room. At first-glance, the room seemed fine. It wasn’t his room back in Brooklyn, but it did have a rehab-type feel to it that war vets recovered in.

“Pearson beaned Reiser in Philadelphia last month. Wouldn’t the youngster like a hit here to return the favor?”

 _This can’t be right._ Steve listened carefully.

“Pete leans in. Here’s the pitch. Swung on. A line to the right. And it gets passed Rizzo.” Steve turned to the radio. There were no words for what he was witnessing. “Three runs will score. Reiser heads to third. Durocher’s gonna wave him in. Here comes the relay but they won’t get him.”

His senses immediately kicked in to overdrive. His brain was still piecing together bits of information. He remembered the Swiss Alps, kissing Peggy goodbye, fighting Red Skull, and diving the Valkyrie into the ocean. The rest was a blank.

A young lady with red hair and red lipstick dressed in her SSR uniform walked in.

“Pete Reiser with an inside the park grand slam…”

“Good morning,” she said, smiling softly. “Or should I say afternoon,” she corrected upon looking at her watch.

Steve remembered a voice.

_“Oh, what day it’s been, Cap.”_

_“I bet if you had the chance to draw your own comic book, you’d probably draw your muscles a little less… bulky.”_

_“.…it seems like all they care about is showing that Captain America is this huge, hunk of a hero and that’s not all you were.”_

_“Steve, don’t worry. I can stay with you.”_

This woman was not the voice he remembered.

“Where am I?” Steve asked firmly, studying her as he waited for an answer.

“You’re in a recovery room in New York City.”

“The Dodger take the lead eight to four. Oh ho- Dodgers! Everyone is on their feet. What a game we have here today!”

 _Lies_. “Where am I really?”

A nervous laugh escaped the woman’s lips. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“The game. It’s from May, 1941. I know because I was there.”

_Now she’s silent._

Steve stood up, looming over the petite woman’s 5’5 frame. His eyes narrowed, and brows furrowed as he said, “Now I’m going to ask you again. Where am I?”

“Captain Rogers…” she trailed off.

“Who are you?” Steve demanded loudly. Just then, two men in full armor with tranquilizers came in, catching him off guard compared to the soft-spoken woman in front of him.

Steve made quick work of disarming the men of their weapons, despite his muscles still needing time to loosen up. He shoved both men as hard as he could and they went flying through the wall. Literally _through_ the wall. Steve did a once-over of his surroundings It was a big, open area, and the room he was in was a ploy.

“Captain Rogers, wait!” The woman stumbled over the debris, reaching into her side and pulling out a walkie talkie.

Steve didn’t stick around to find out what she was using it for.

“All agents, code 13!” he heard as he barreled through the double doors and into a main lobby area. Business casual attire, hardwood flooring. All-glass windows. “I repeat, all agents code 13!”

Like a swarm of bees, they began to huddle towards Steve. He made a break for it, pushing and shoving whomever got in the way until he made it to another set of doors. He left the building only to knock into a random civilian to whom he yelled an apology to without looking back. Cars honked, just like when he was the one of Hydra’s men. This place seemed familiar but it sure as hell didn’t look familiar. He ran down the middle of the road cutting through a busy crosswalk before finally, the scenery overwhelmed him.

The city was vibrant, booming with people. It smelled of gas, hot dogs, popcorn, and cigarette smoke, all familiar scents to him. He glanced at the street signs. They read the same as he was used to, but the street signs were bigger in size, brighter, and held over metal a huge metal archway that he’d never seen before. A car drove by him, but it didn’t make a sound. _How was that even possible? And what were these people talking into so much?_ Not many people just walked. They were either looking down at something in their hands or yelling into what looked like a phone of some kind. _But where were the numbers on the screens? What the hell are these huge screens flashing at me for? Why was there a lady wearing nothing but her undergarments in some of them holding a soda pop?_

_Where. The. Hell. Am. I._

Steve’s heart pounded heavily against his chest, his heart thrumming against his eardrums as cars approached him from all angles. It was like Schmidt’s headquarters all over again, being surrounded by the enemy.

Steve’s body was already on the offense, but a voice called out to him. A voice he recognized.

“Steve?” He knew that voice. Steve pivoted to lock eyes on her for the first time, and he was not let down in the slightest.

She was more beautiful than he could’ve imagined. Her eyes were an irradiant shade of jade, complimenting her pin-straight strawberry blonde hair perfectly to her ivory skin. Her suit had seen better days, which told him she was a fighter, or at the very least, she was hard to knock down. He noticed she wore minimal makeup, which he appreciated. He’d seen enough red lipstick to last another lifetime. She captured his attention with a small, innocent smile.

“Captain Rogers, my name is-”

“You’re Phoebe,” he answered for her, his voice low as he locked eyes with hers.

She nodded. “I am.”

“You like banana pudding and _The Three Stooges_.”

Phoebe laughed, and it was one of the cutest laughs Steve has ever heard. “I do.”

Steve still felt the tension in his body, not by choice. Even after all he remembers her saying, how she could tell exactly what he was thinking, his body betrayed him.

“At ease, soldier,” a male voice said behind Phoebe. Steve didn’t recognize him.

“Who are you?” Steve asked, eyes low.

“Colonel Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D. You may have remembered it as the Strategic Scientific Reserve.”

Steve looked between Phoebe and Fury. “Where am I?”

Fury glanced at the signs above them. “46th and Broadway,” he answered casually. “I’m sorry about that little show back there. We didn’t know what your mental state might be, so we thought it best to break it to your slow.”

“Break what?”

Phoebe stepped forward, casting a look to him. He was very good at details. He could see the subtle quiver of her lip as she said, “I’m sorry but there’s not sugar coating this. You’ve been asleep, Steve. For almost 70 years.”

Steve’s brain seemed to freeze. He had no thoughts, no words for what he was just told. 70 years? _How was this even possible?_ It took another moment, but he put two and two together.

Most of his friends were dead now.

“You gonna be alright?” Fury asked, pulling Steve out of his fog.

 _No._ “Yeah,” Steve mumbled, looking off into the distance. _Peggy…_ “It’s just… I had a date.”

***  
**Phoebe**

Phoebe remembered hearing about that date. Peggy danced for Steve that night in the middle of the dance floor alone until a man approached her, saying he was one of the men Captain America saved and would be honored to join her. They danced until midnight. Later in life, they fell in love, got married and had two beautiful children together.

“How am I alive?” Steve asked.

“We’re not sure. Phoebe knows that part of it was the ice preserving you, but we also think Dr. Erskine’s serum had something to do with it,” Fury answered.

Steve let out a heavy sigh, looking around sporadically at the scenery around him. Phoebe felt for him, she really did. This world was bright, gregarious, and definitely _not_ 1945\. Nothing would be familiar to him, not even the street signs. “So… what now?”

“Now we get you settled,” Fury said. “The world hasn’t changed all that much. There’s still a lot of work to be done… a soldier’s work.” Steve seemed to be in an unspoken understanding with Fury. “The world can still use a man like you, Cap.” Fury extended his hand to the soldier.

Steve shook his hand, but Phoebe suspected he had no idea what he just agreed to.

“There is a place here for you,” Fury made sure Steve understood. “Agent Reynolds holds high respect for you…”

“So I’ve heard,” Steve replied quietly, a hint of a smirk.

“She’ll escort you to your apartment.”

“Apartment?” Steve echoed.

“We’ve had a place ready for you in case you wake up.”

“I don’t even get to shower and change into something other than leather?” Phoebe extended her arms, showing Fury the scratches and tears that continued from her underarms all the way to her curve of her butt.

“Nope.”

“If she wants to freshen up, I have no problem with it,” Steve offered softly. Phoebe smiled at him.

“Thank you, Captain Rogers. At least someone still has manners,” Phoebe said, glaring at Fury who smirked in response. Phoebe motioned for Steve to follow her to a nearby car. Phoebe reached to touch the door handle when her fingertips crossed paths with Steve’s.

_Nervous. Excited. Overwhelmed._

Phoebe shoved her hand in her pocket, reeling the glow of her hand away from Steve, fearing he’d react on the offensive. Fury glared from the corner of his eye.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Steve frowned, retracting his hand quickly. “I didn’t mean to cause you a fright.”

“A fright?” Phoebe smiled. “No, I wasn’t frightened. I forgot that chivalry once existed.”

***  
**Steve**

Steve was taken back. Chivalry was one of the first thing his parents taught him. Respect, humility, and honesty. “Men don’t open doors for women anymore?” Phoebe pressed her lips together, shaking her head. He chuckled. “Next you’re going to tell me men let women walk on the outside of the sidewalk.” Phoebe didn’t answer as she started the car, although she found his surprised expression absolutely delectable with his mouth agape ever so slightly and blue eye wide. “What world have awoken into?”

“One where women can join the military and men go to the nursing school. Also called the 21st century, Captain.”

Steve’s voice caught in his throat. “I always liked the idea of equality.”

Phoebe smiled, her eyes glued to the road. “Maybe you’re in the right era after all.”

They arrived at Steve’s apartment complex, a simple brick building with fire escapes. It looked like an older building before the renovations to the city. Steve got out of the car in record time, jumping over the car – _over_ the car – and opening Phoebe’s door. Until he remembered what she said.

“I’m sorry,” Steve closed his eyes in embarrassment. “It’s going to take a while to break the rules my parents ingrained in my brain since I was a kid.”

“No, don’t be. Please,” she answered, and her voice hitched at the plea. Steve tilted his head. “I’m quite fond of chivalry, actually. I’m old fashioned.”

“You and me both,” Steve laughed. “You remind me of someone I know-” His heart jumps in his throat as he looked down at his hands. “Someone I knew,” he corrected, softer than before.

“Agent Carter?”

Steve looked at Phoebe, surprised. “How did you know?”

“It’s complicated. I didn’t get a chance to tell you _everything_ while you were out,” Phoebe said.

“You’re not her granddaughter, are you?” As neat as that would be, Steve found it slightly uneasy to have had bonded to someone related to the first woman he ever loved.

Still loves.

They walked up the small stairway with Steve trailing right behind Phoebe.

“No, I’m not her granddaughter,” Phoebe said. “Peggy saved my life once upon a time.”

“Really? She must have lived a long life, then.”

“Is living it. Present tense,” Phoebe corrected while she fumbled under the welcome mat and dug up the key. “She’s still alive. Widowed, struggles with dementia every so often but very much alive.”

Steve exhaled sharply, as if he’d been slammed by a semi-truck. Phoebe couldn’t tell what Steve was thinking, and right now, she wished she could. He stayed silent as they walked through the apartment. It was decorated just like it would be in the 40s. Phoebe had much of the design input, and Steve seemed to appreciate appreciates the minor touches, such as keeping a rotary phone and older radio like the one in his staged bedroom.

“I’m sorry if I stirred up something I shouldn’t have,” Phoebe said, breaking the silence.

“Ma’am?” Steve asked.

“I tell you Peggy is alive, that she saved my life, and you don’t ask for so much as a phone number. I can only think that maybe I said something I shouldn’t have.”

Steve sighed. “It’s not you at all, Phoebe. It’s just a little-”

“Overwhelming,” Phoebe realized.

Steve smirked. “How did you-”

Phoebe shrugged. “I can read people really well.”

Steve nodded, and looked around the room, wondering what he should do next. It’s not like there was a manual for people who are taken 70 years in the future.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to get settle. Fury wants me get you acquainted with our modern world, but I know you need a little time to process things.” A beat. “There is a packet along with a laptop that contains some information about the Howling Commandos, as well as Peggy’s information.”

“Laptop?”

“Don’t worry about that. I can teach you how to use it this week if you’d like,” Phoebe offered.

“Thank you,” Steve said. “I’d like that,” he added, running a finger over the rotary dial of his phone with one hand, another hand threaded through his hair.

“I live right down the hall if you need anything,” Phoebe said, noting that Steve was overstimulated. She walked to the door, a hand on the handle when Steve’s called out to her.

“Did you mean everything you said to me while I was under? About me being a hero, unlike anyone you’ve ever known?” Steve couldn’t help but ask.

“I did,” she answered honestly.

“But you haven’t met me until today.”

“No, I haven’t. But I didn’t need to. Like I said… I read people very well.”

“You know, you are very multidimensional woman.”

Phoebe furrowed her brows. “Is that a compliment?”

Steve chuckled. “It’s an observation. But I think it’s nice that there’s more to you besides being a beautiful dame,” he said, his Brooklyn accent coming through.

Phoebe had to admit… accents were sexy as hell. Especially Steve Rogers’s. “See you tomorrow, Steve,” she said, opening the door.

“See you later, Phoebe,” Steve said. “Oh and by the way… it’s nice to finally meet the woman who made being under the ice not so bad.”


	6. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is adjusting to the future. Phoebe slips up.

***  
April 14, 2012  
**Steve**

_“The serum amplifies everything that is inside, so good becomes great, bad becomes worse. This is why you were chosen. Because a strong man who has known power all his life will lose respect for that power, but a weak man knows the value of strength. And knows compassion.”_

_“Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you – not a perfect soldier – but a good man.”_

“Who the hell are you?” Steve rasped, tossing and turning in his sheets.

_“The first of many. Cut off one head, two more shall take its place. Hail… Hydra.”_

_“Are those your only options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey? You were meant for more than this, you know.”_

_“_ Sergeant Barnes…” Steve clenched his jaw tight, blood pooling from his lips.

_“He’s devising a strategy-“_

_“By the time he does that it could be too late!”_

_“Let’s hear it for Captain America!”_

_“Bucky! No!”_

_‘Schmidt believes he works in the footsteps of the Gods.”_

_“Erskine tried to deny what was rightfully mine, but he gave you everything. So tell me… what makes you so special?”_

“Nothing,” Steve stuttered. “Just a… kid… from Brooklyn.”

_“I gotta put her in the water! This is my choice.”_

_“Steve…”_

“Peggy…”

_“You’ve been asleep, Cap. For almost 70 years.”_

Steve opened his eyes. He felt like he was being swallowed by the memory foam. Too soft. Steve grabbed his blanket and stood up, hearing an odd cracking noise. He turned. The headboard had split in two right down the middle and a hole was directly in the center of the wall with an imprint that looked like his fist. Steve looked at his fist, noticing the faint red marks on his knuckles. The scraps had already healed, barely visible in the moonlight poking through his curtained windows. Steve leaned against remains of his bed, fingers threaded through his hair as he took deep, slow breaths.

_“You gonna be alright, Cap?”_

“No,” Steve mumbled at the memory, face in his hands. “I’m not.”

***  
**Phoebe**

_“It helps not to struggle.”_

“Don’t plan on staying,” Phoebe mumbled.

_“You don’t have a choice.”_

_“You always have a choice.”_

_“I didn’t.”_

“Who are you?” Phoebe whispered gently.

_“Whatever they need, I give. Always ready to comply.”_

_“You’re an agent of Hydra?”_

_“So are you. You have been since the start.”_

“Like hell,” Phoebe banged against her pillow, tears stinging her roundly shut eyes.

_“She’s strong-willed.”_

“Hmmmpfffh,” Phoebe groaned, shifting and wiggling through the sheets.

_“Not every procedure requires an audience.”_

“No!” Phoebe awakened from her nightmare only to find she wasn’t in her bed. She was several inches above it, floating under a sheer layer of a purple glow. Her sheets were ashes on her skin. She willed herself back to floor level. It took much more strength than she was expecting, and when she reached the mahogany floorboard, her knees felt like they were giving out. Leaning against the edge of the bed, she looked at the clock. 4 am.

Phoebe grabbed a blanket from under her bed and wrapped herself like a cocoon. She closed her eyes, hoping that exhaustion would take over for her and she could finally get some quality rest.

But even she knew that was just a pipe dream.

***  
April 19, 2012  
**Steve**

Steve didn’t require as much sleep as the average person. Two to three hours was enough for him to function at 100% for days if need be. He’d tried to get a few hours each night, but recently, he’s been up for close to 48 hours. He cleared a path in the living room and exercised vigorously until he tasted the salty sweat dripping from his forehead. It was almost sunrise, so he showered and walked into his bedroom. The bed was a mess, sheets throw across the other side, pillows on the opposite ends of the bed, not to mention the headboard that Steve had taken apart and leaned in the corner of his bedroom to be tossed out later in the week, along with that mattress from hell. He needed a firmer mattress.

The dresser contained clothes in Steve’s size. Plain t-shirts, fruit of the loom boxers and briefs – because no one knew which he preferred, though he wore boxers under his Captain America uniform when the nurses undressed and washed him off. His closet contained jeans, trousers, and khaki pants. At the bottom were shoes that Steve found familiar. Loafers, sturdy dress shoes. There was also a pair of shoes with a check marker on them were unlike any shoe he’d ever seen.

Steve sat down at the kitchen table with his French vanilla flavored coffee. There were detailed instructions sitting next to the Keurig, which he followed relatively easily. So much easier than using filters. He glanced next to the instructions at the stack of yellow file folders. He purposely hadn’t touched them, fearing the worst.

The Howling Commandos in all caps covered the top folder.

Steve glanced at the names. Dum Dum Dungan: deceased. Junior Jupiter: deceased. Jim Morita: deceased. Gabe Jones: deceased. Howard Stark: deceased. He slammed the file folders down, a hand between the bridge of his nose squeezing tightly. His friends. All gone. Dead. Killed in the war. The pain swallowed his vocal cords and his heart buried deep in his stomach. He got up, taking his keys and slamming the door behind him. He’d caused a slight crack in the door, but it didn’t register to him until someone mentioned it. Steve acknowledged the elderly lady that told him of a place around the corner that could cover up the crack before the landlord would notice.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll be sure to stop by there,” Steve said, feigning a soft smile to the petite woman. She unlocked her own apartment and waved goodbye.

“Making friends already?” Steve turned, looking at Phoebe, who had a box of donuts in her hand and a coffee in the other.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve said, glancing at his door. “I guess my anger got the best of me.”

Phoebe followed his gaze to the crack. “Don’t worry about that. We can have it taken care of within the hour if it bothers you that much.”

“What about my landlord?” Steve asked.

“Your landlord is SHIELD,” Phoebe smirked. She used her leg as a makeshift donut and coffee but large hands wrapped around the box, another one taking the coffee cup. “Thank you,” Phoebe managed as she unlocked her door.

“Of course,” Steve said, smiling. “I’d get the door for you, but someone told me that chivalry was dead.”

Phoebe looked at him, trying her best to withhold a laugh. “Whoever told you that is pretty smart because it’s very true.”

“She is more than smart,” Steve admired. “She’s got this laugh that makes your insides feel like a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven. She’s also got this quirk where she cuts her spaghetti into squares, and she only turkey meat balls, not beef. She likes romantic comedies, but they have to a solid storyline or else she gets bored and she’ll change the channel to family feud, whatever that is.”

Phoebe laughed. “It’s a game show. But it sounds like you really paid attention to my stories.”

“It was either listen to your stories or sleep,” Steve joked. “And I’ve had my fill of sleeping.”

Steve surprised himself with how much he remembered from being unconscious. Phoebe looked at him with wide eyes, showing that she, too, was just as surprised. Steve fiddled with his keys, a nervous habit that even the serum didn’t change from his personality. He needed something in his hands, especially when he was nervous.

“Are you going somewhere?” Phoebe asked.

“Thought I’d look around town, see if this old café I liked to go to is still around. If it’s not, then I’ll just see what’s out there,” Steve said with a shrug.

“Would you like some company?”

Steve couldn’t hide the half-smile that appeared on his lips. “Absolutely, ma’am.”

***  
**Phoebe**

The café’s Steve remembered were gone, replaced with shopping outlets and the ice cream shop that Tony and Phoebe visited as kids. Phoebe suggested a little café on 39th street. It was quaint, friendly, and welcoming. A waitress with long, blonde hair pulled into a modern spin on a 50s half-bun sat them outside.

“Thank you,” Steve said. He pulled Phoebe’s chair out.

“Can I start you off with something to drink?”

Steve skimmed through the drink menu. “I’ll have a Root Beer.”

“Root Beer as well,” Phoebe said to the waitress.

“Coming right up,” she said before walking inside.

“If you keep being a gentleman, people are going to question what era you’re from,” Phoebe noted to Steve, amused.

Steve chuckled. “It’s kind of nice, not being recognized,” he said, looking around at all the people walking along the streets of the city. No one really paid much mind to the two of them, except for the occasional side-glances from women at Steve’s direction because – let’s face it – he was very attractive.

“Once you sacrificed yourself in the arctic, the world mourned you, honored you and they eventually moved on. But for some of us, moving on wasn’t an option,” Phoebe said, returning a smile to Steve. The faint hue of a blush could be seen in the sunlight on Steve’s cheek, and she felt a tiny flutter in her chest knowing that she caused it.

The waitress came back with their drink orders. “Thank you, ma’am,” Steve said politely, helping her with the drinks.

Phoebe waited for her to leave before continuing. “You were the world’s first superhero. SHIELD felt it was our duty to find you. To bring you home.”

“Home,” Steve repeated, leaning back against the metal dining chair. “I honestly couldn’t tell you where home is anymore.”

“You’ll figure it out. Home isn’t just a place. Home is where you can let go and be completely yourself. Home is the place you think of when it’s dark and you need a light to guide you back to the feeling of being safest, warm… whole.”

“Wow,” Steve breathed. “You could be a novelist.”

“I dabbled in the literary arts once upon a time,” Phoebe admitted sheepishly. “But you’ll know when you’ve found your home. It won’t happen overnight. Trust me… I understand kind of what you’re going through right now.”

“So you’ve waken up 70 years in the future, too?”

***  
**Steve**

“No,” Phoebe responded with a smirk. “I know what’s like to go to sleep as one person and wake up totally different.” She looked at him, and the lack of luster in her eyes told Steve that she didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“So I found something in my wallet,” Steve began. He pulled out his wallet to show a flap with plastic cards on the inside. “They have my name on them and numbers. What are they?”

Phoebe giggled. “I guess this can be your first modern lesson.”

“Whenever you’re ready, Ms. Reynolds.”

“So those are credit cards. A credit card has money on it. It’s not free because let’s face it, nothing in this world is free.”

Steve nodded with a laugh. “That I did know.”

Phoebe continued. “So a credit card an X amount of money on it. Usually anywhere from 300-1,000 to start depending on the company. You can use that money whenever you need to if you don’t have cash on you.  Once a month, you get a billing statement showing how much of the maxed amount of money you have spent. There is a minimum you have to pay to keep your credit score in the green.”

“And that’s a good thing? To keep your credit score in the green?”

“Very much so. Credit scores are used for job interviews, when buying a car or a house, or taking out a loan. If you don’t pay your bills on time, they’ll deem you untrustworthy.”

“I guess I better not use these cards,” Steve said. He had some cash on him that SHIELD managed to stow away when they unfroze him, but he had to start over. New home, new vehicle, new life…

“Why not?” Phoebe asked.

“Can’t pay the bills if you have no money.”

“Fury didn’t tell you?”

Steve furrowed his brows. Now he was curious. “Tell me what?”

“Peggy Carter did more than steal your heart, Steve. She stole your bank account. She took your money, opened a second account in her name and gave Nick Fury the information should anyone related to you come forward. But it’s yours now. It’s been sitting in New York, growing interest over the years.”

 _Peggy._ Steve swallowed the remainder of his soda pop, processing everything. It was a lot, knowing that Peggy had been taking care of him all these years. He thought back to their kiss, the passion against her lips. It was the key motivator in him taking down Schmidt. She really was quite the dame.

“So you’re saying I have money?” he asked.

Phoebe smiled. “You have plenty to get you started, Steve. Peggy signed over the rights to Fury when she got sick.”

Sick? Steve’s heart dropped to his stomach. “What do you mean sick?”

Phoebe held her glass tightly with both hands. Steve waited for what seemed like hours before Phoebe answered, but it was only a minute or two. “Peggy has Alzheimer’s. She was diagnosed in 2010.”

Steve felt nauseous. His heart pounded against his chest as he abruptly stood up. “I have to go.”

Phoebe swung her head around as Steve ran away from the café.


	7. Dancing Partner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoebe and Steve run into each other after the events at the cafe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS NOT THE END OF THE STORY, just an FYI. But I did start my online summer class (Ethics 101, yikes!), so if I don't update for a while, it's not because the story is over. It's because I have to balance my class, work, and life in general. ALSO: I highly recommend you listen to "Long Ago and Far Away" by Jo Stafford while reading, especially at the end. Here is a link to the song.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IiSrKbj_pHQ

***  
April 25, 2012 **  
Phoebe**

Steve needed time. How much time Phoebe had no clue. But she knew that he needed time away from her, away from the bright lights of the city, and away from the information overload. It had to be a shock to him. To wake up in a strange time losing 70 years of his life all because he sacrificed himself to save the world. To learn that his comrades were dead, that his love was alive and here but not _really_ _here_.

It had to be scary. To have death be so close you could almost kiss it, then… nothing.

Stuck in a limbo-like coma until the grace of whatever Powers that Be shined a light at Schmidt’s Valkyrie.

Phoebe couldn’t sit around her stuffy apartment anymore. Her main assignment was helping Steve readjust to life in 2012, but she had paperwork she could pick up from Headquarters, and Fury said that she could handle mini assignments that were here in town while she helped Steve. The vibrant sun threatened her sensitive green eyes when she began her morning jog to Battery Park, her favorite park to run in. It was a mixture of old statues mixed with a few new ones. Her favorite halfway point was Castle Clinton. She grabbed a bottle water from a street vendor, put on her headphones and started her journey.

Each mile she picked up the pace a little harder, a little faster. Forcing her body to use those cells that were busy trying to keep her alive during her state of instability. Phoebe would notice the flickering of her hands whenever she tried to increase her intensity, as if her body was yelling at her to slow down. She’d figured out that it took exertion for her to access her powers when she ran on the treadmill at her house so fast, she froze the rubberized treads and flung herself into her couch, breaking her coffee table in the process. Tony had been in touch with her and he begged for her to tell Steve so he could try to save her life. But Phoebe said no. Steve had too many things on his plate as it was, and Tony said that as long as her cells kept regenerating and replacing the burnt-out molecules, she’d be fine.

She had to be fine. She didn’t have time to be anything but fine.

Her halfway point was fast approaching. That’s not all. A familiar face had come to a stop as well for a drink. Steve. Sweat glistened down his biceps, wet splotches covered his fitted tee shirt. His roots were darker than normal, and his hair had a slight curl that made him look straight out of a 40s hairstyle magazine. He hadn’t noticed Phoebe yet, and she debated on just running right by him without saying a word. But what fun would that be?

“I guess you can take the boy out of the war, but you can’t take the war out of the boy,” Phoebe mused, lips ghosting over her water bottle. She tugged at the rubber straw, drawing in a few gulps of the icy liquid.

Steve whipped his head around and sweat flung into the air. He was clearly surprised to see her there. “Phoebe,” he breathed, his voice raised slightly. “Hi.”

***  
**Steve**

“Captain,” Phoebe acknowledged, taking in another gulp of water. She squeezed her bottle and let the water spray down her sports bra, hitting the curve of her chest and belly button. Steve felt uncomfortable, but not in the way that he expected.

His eye betrayed him as they wandered over Phoebe’s hourglass frame, stopping at the shiny object on her stomach. “Is that a piercing on your belly button?” Steve asked in utter shock.

Phoebe’s face looked flushed as she followed his gaze to her stomach. “Uh, yeah. It’s a very popular piercing. I’d get used to it now if I were you.”

Steve gulped to himself, looking at her with a nervous glance. “Well, it… uh… it looks nice.” Steve went silent for a moment. _Way to go, Steve. Think of something to say already._ “You mentioned something about the war?”

“Battery Park. They dedicated parts of the park to World War II veterans,” Phoebe explained, shutting her water bottle cap and taking something out of her ears. It was small and white, the slightest sound of music coming from the speakers. “Like that eagle over there,” she pointed to the Bronze Eagle. “It’s dedicated to every soldier who died protecting our country. On one side is an inscription dedicated to you.”

“Really?” Steve was flattered that New York would dedicate a statue to what he did. He didn’t think twice about what he did. It was his duty as a soldier to protect the country, and so he did. “You really are quite the teacher. History, finance, what’s next?”

“Technology. I still have to teach you how to use that laptop that’s been collecting dust in your apartment,” Phoebe joked.

Steve smiled. “I’d like that. I’m glad I ran into you, actually. I wanted to apologize for running out on our…” Steve trailed off. _It wasn’t a date._ “At the café,” he stuttered, eyes falling to his shoes then back at her. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Phoebe’s eyes never faltered from his. If anything, they were warm and soft, as if he had done nothing wrong to begin with. “I get it, Steve. You are under a lot of pressure. You’re lost, confused, overwhelmed; it’s a lot for anyone to handle. I shouldn’t have blurted Peggy’s sickness like that. You deserved to know in a timely fashion,” she admitted. At some point in their conversation, they had begun walking towards the Bronze Eagle statue. “You don’t need to apologize to me. I get that this is a hard time for you.”

“What, have you been frozen for 70 years, too?” Steve asked jokingly.

“No, but I do know what it’s like to wake up in a totally new situation. One that you’d never expect to happen to you, but it did anyway.”

Steve frowned. There were a lot of things about Phoebe that didn’t completely add up. She talks about understanding him, saying she reads people well, but it was more than that. It was like she was really inside his head, understanding him on a level that not even his best friend Bucky could get to. She seemed to know about the past, his past especially. But how she knew these things were beyond Steve, and he should have felt slightly guarded around her because of that. It was in his nature to be wary of everyone thanks to the war. But oddly enough, he didn’t feel that way around her. If anything, his guard was cast aside whenever she was near him. She was unlike anyone he’d ever known. It was both exhilarating and frightening all at the same time.

“Phoebe,” Steve asked out of blue, stopping dead in his tracks. Phoebe turned, waiting for him to continue with those baby seafoam doe-like eyes that made his heart flutter against his chest faster than a race car. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Phoebe’s eyes widened, and she seemed genuinely uneasy by the question. “What do you mean, Steve?”

“I mean, is there something you’re keeping from me? Whether it’s because you’re afraid how I’d react, or afraid that I would treat you different, I’m not sure. I just feel like there’s something. And I can’t stand thinking that you’d keep a secret from me. Not when we’ve been getting closer and such,” Steve rambled. He tended to do that whenever he was nervous, but this time he got lucky and was able to stop himself.

***  
**Phoebe**

Phoebe had two choices. She could be honest with Steve right now, risk him thinking she was a freak or she could lie, say that there was nothing she was hiding and that he was just being silly. Lying had never been her strong suit. But ever since she felt Steve’s emotions for the first time, she wanted to get to know him without the Captain America name attached. She finagled her way into getting assigned to help Steve instead of Agent Coulson, and she promised herself that when the time was right, she would explain her powers to Steve, maybe even go through with the cure to her molecular imbalance.

But now was not the time.

“No, Steve, I’m not keeping anything from you,” Phoebe assured him despite the twist in her gut saying she was a big fat liar. Steve seemed relieved, offering a big smile. He lifted her up into his grasp, twirling her around for one spin before setting her back down, the same goofy smile still on his face.

Steve’s hand rested against her cheek ever so slightly while he gazed into her eyes. Phoebe found herself leaning into his touch, eyes locked with his baby blues.

“You’re so beautiful,” Steve mused, another smile tugging at his lips. Phoebe was blushing like a mad woman and tried to turn her head. “Don’t turn away. Please.”

“Why?” Phoebe asked, her voice above a whisper.

“I like watching you blush. I like knowing I caused it, too,” Steve admitted softly, his thumb ghosting over the flush of her cheek.

“You’re such a romantic,” Phoebe noted playfully, cupping her hand over his.

“What can I say?” Steve pulled away from her cheek, keeping their hands intertwined. “I’m old fashioned.”

“So am I,” Phoebe said. She reached down her chest, pulling out the earphones that had slipped under her sports bra. She wiped them off and held one earphone in front of him. “I’m skipping a lesson technically, but we’ll just back track. These are earphones. You plug them in to a phone, or music device and you can listen to music without anyone else telling you what crappy music choices you have.”

Steve laughed. “What about them?”

“Listen,” she said, and placed one of them in his ear.

***  
**Steve**

 _Long ago and far away_  
I dreamed a dream one day  
And now that dream if here beside me  
Long the skies were overcast  
But now the clouds have passed.  
You’re here at last  
  

Steve knew that song. He was exhausted, having not slept in five days because of how many Hydra bases his team had to destroy that week. He remembered closing his eyes and falling asleep to the original version of the song while it played on the radio. He glanced down at Phoebe, who had the other earphone in.

“What?” Phoebe asked, a playful smile.

“You know, I don’t know how to dance,” Steve said, and for a moment, his mind went to the last conversation he had with Peggy. Solemn, he looked at Phoebe. “Can we add that to the list of things to teach me?”

“How about right now?”

Steve gulped. “Right now? Here? In our sweaty running clothes?”

“Rule number one,” Phoebe said, taking both of Steve’s hand and placing them on her hips firmly. “You don’t need a fancy dress and a three-piece suit to dance.”

Steve chuckled. “What’s rule number two?”

“As long as you have the right partner, you don’t need music, either.”

Steve’s heart jumped. For as long as he could remember, Peggy was the woman he wanted to dance with. All he dreamed about while out in the field was dancing with her back home under the aroma of candlelight. Now, standing with his hands on Phoebe’s hips as she instructed him to step forward and back in a swaying motion, he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Steve didn’t feel his heart break over it, either. He mourned his lost relationship with Peggy, cried over it and demanded the Gods why couldn’t it have worked out with her. It was the worst feeling he could have possibly felt since being out of the ice. But then he looked at Phoebe’s smile, and he knew.

Peggy was his first dance partner. 

But Phoebe was going to be his last.

 _Chills run up and down my spine_  
Aladdin’s lamp is mine  
The dream I dreamed was not denied me  
Just one look and then I knew  
That all I longed for long ago was you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Long Ago and Far Away" by Jo Stafford was just too perfect for Phoebe and Steve <3


	8. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoebe's secret bites her in the ass.

***  
May 3, 2012  
**Steve**

Steve and Phoebe had gone through a few lessons, starting with learning how to use his phone, an Env3. Phoebe figured it was best to start him off easy. She taught him the basic controls, installed her number and Fury’s. Steve was fascinated by it. He loved the game that Phoebe had installed for him called snake. The tactician in him made it very easy for him to grow the snake until the entire screen was. But even that got boring after a few days.

“Since when did our lessons include watching TV all day?” Steve asked.

“Since it’s the season finale of my favorite tv show tonight,” Phoebe replied, leaning back so she could recline backwards to stretch her legs. Steve shifted to give her more room, letting his arm hang loosely around her shoulder. “And you can’t watch this season’s finale without watching the first three and a half seasons. Hence, a Vampire Diaries marathon.”

“So let me get this straight. A show about two vampire brothers who are in love with the same girl, who is the doppelganger of their former love is supposed to be classified as good television?”

Phoebe looked up at him. “You don’t like it?”

“And you do?” Steve asked, looking down at her with an eyebrow raised.

“It’s _a_ favorite of mine. But not my _favorite_.”

“You can be very confusing sometimes,” Steve noted.

“Most women are. You haven’t figured that out yet, but you will.”

“Good thing I’m only concerned with one woman,” Steve said, smiling down at her where she lay on his chest.

“Yeah, I know.” A beat. "You are obsessed with Bonnie Bennett,” Phoebe said with a smirk. “It’s the magic.”

“If anyone has me under their spell, it's a certain SHIELD agent.”

“Damn it. I’m gonna have to have a talk with Agent Coulson,” Phoebe joked.

Steve chuckled. “You know, this may not be my kind of television but it doesn’t mean I’m not having fun.”

“What would you like to watch, then? We have two hours until the finale comes on.”

Steve searched in Phoebe DVD bookcase until he found the group of DVDs he was looking for. He held up the Three Stooges. They were at the Goodwill store looking around when Phoebe found the series in a display case for $7. It was the ultimate deal. Steve bought the series for her, but they hadn’t gotten around to watching it yet.

“The soldier has spoken,” Phoebe said, taking the DVD case.

She showed him how the DVD player worked, and Steve clicked play.  He plopped next to Phoebe, returning his arm around her shoulder, her instinctively resting against his chest. It felt like the easiest thing in the world, having Phoebe in his arms.

They were watching the episode, “Disorder in the Court.”

 _Larry and Moe were playing Tic Tac Toe.  Curly interrupted their game with his own game of Jacks._  
_“Hey! What’s the idea, spoiling the game?” Moe shouted._  
 _“I was for onsies!” Curly shot back._  
 _“Well here’s twosies,” Moe said, poking Curly in the eyes._  
 _“He was for onsies and you give him-” Larry interjected._  
 _“Here’s fivesies.” Moe smacked Larry across the face._

Phoebe laughed until her eyes watered. Steve couldn’t help himself but stare at Phoebe, enjoying the look of pure joy on her face. She was stunning, even in one of his tee shirts and her… _what were they called again?_ Yoga pants? Right, yoga pants. Phoebe didn’t catch him looking in her direction until almost halfway through the show.

“What?” Phoebe asked. Her face was flushed from laughing so hard, and her hair pushed to one side.

“Nothing,” Steve said, smirking. He looked at the TV. Phoebe continued to stare at him, as if she were debating something. “What?” he asked after a minute.

“Nothing,” Phoebe repeated back to him with a smile, turning her attention back to the TV.

 _“Doyousolemnlysweartotellthetruththewholetruthandnothingbutthetruth?” the attorney asked._  
_“Why don’t you answer him?” the Judge asked Curly._  
 _“He’s talking pig latin, I don’t know what he’s sayin’!” Curly answered._  
 _The Judge frowned. “He’s asking you if you swear-”_  
 _“No, but I know all the words!” Curly exclaimed._

Steve laughed loudly, holding his chest. He’d forgotten how funny this show was. Being in the war and then frozen, he had years of missed episodes to make up for, but he wasn’t sure if he had enough oxygen to make it through every episode at once. Steve turned his head as he felt like he was being watched. A quick glance and saw Phoebe had been staring at him again, this time with a coy look on her face.

“I’m sorry, was my laughing interrupting your show?”

“No,” Phoebe said, turning her head. “I was just… nevermind.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” Steve said, leaning back and tugging on her shoulder. Phoebe let out a low giggle, and Steve laughed because he knew why. Phoebe found his nicknames for her to be charming and quaint, way better than the nicknames the men of this time would have come up for her. Phoebe leaned back into his chest, rubbing circles over his heart. Steve wiggled under her touch. “That tickles.”

“Sorry,” Phoebe apologized quickly, retracting her hand.

“I didn’t say stop,” Steve said, his voice hoarse. Phoebe gave him a look before returning her hand over his heart, rubbing gently.

“I like listening to your heart beat,” Phoebe admitted. “When I would visit you while you were unconscious, I’d bring my laptop to work on this novel I’m writing, and sometimes, your breathing would be so shallow I’d have to check to make sure your heart was still beating. Scared the hell out of me sometimes, you did.”

Steve chuckled. “Speaking of laptops,” he got up and brought his laptop to the coffee table. “I tried to turn this thing on, and I managed to get as far as this screen.” Steve moved his finger over the trackpad, and a blue screen came up with a few options.

“How on Earth did you get the boot up menu to come up?” Phoebe asked, sitting up.

“I honestly have no idea.”

“So this menu usually comes up when there’s a probably with plugging in the AC power adapter and…” Phoebe stopped. “I’m not making any sense to you right now, am I?”

“Nope,” Steve said, smiling innocently.

Phoebe reached over to the black cable that was now plugged in. “This is the cord that charges your laptop. You plug it in here,” she pointed to the entry point, “and you can still use the laptop while it charges. Did the laptop say it was doing any updates?”

“It said: ‘Windows Updates’ and 30-something percent when I lifted it up and the cord yanked out.”

***  
**Phoebe**

“That’s why you got the blue screen of death,” Phoebe said. “You have to keep the AC power plugged in when doing updates.” Phoebe turned on the laptop. The updates finished, and the main screen popped up. Phoebe clicked on Steve’s name, with a picture of his shield as his ID name.

“How did you get my shield on there?” Steve asked, surprised.

Phoebe smiled. “Google.”

“Google?” Steve echoed.

“Lesson one in Laptop Basics: Internet. To use it, you need-”

“Weefee?” Steve answered, pointing to the screen that asked for Phoebe’s ‘wifi’ password.

“You’re adorable,” Phoebe said through laughs. “It’s pronounced ‘why-fi’. It’s short for wireless internet. Before wifi, you had to connect a cable called an Ethernet cable to your computer to get access to the Internet.”

“No wifi, no Internet. Got it.” A beat. “So what exactly is the Internet?”

“It’ll easier if I just show you.” Phoebe set up Google Chrome. “This is the Internet. Anything you want to know can be accessed on here. You just type what you want to know, and Google will come up with a list of websites that match your answer.”

“Interesting,” Steve said, studying the browser’s webpage.

“Watch this,” Phoebe said as she started typing:

_Google search: When was Captain America born?  
About 75,500,000 results (0.53 seconds)_

The main entry showed a square box:  
_Captain Steven Grant Rogers, was born July 4, 1918 to Joseph and Sarah Rogers._

“Whoa, that’s nifty,” Steve said, smiling as he read the paragraph about himself. “Except my mother died after my father, not before. And Bucky and I knew each other before kindergarten.”

“Would you like to write your own mini biography?” Phoebe quipped, shifting the laptop towards him.

“It’s a thought,” Steve replied, skimming through the remainder of the information. It was pretty basic. Birth place, attending art school, volunteering so many times only to get rejected. The Hydra brases he and the Howling Commandos destroyed. “I’m sure whoever wrote this just borrowed information from the SSR.”

“Possibly. The authors of your comic book series took a lot of general information to create their ‘Captain America’,” Phoebe said, thinking back to the comics she read as a kid.

“I seemed to recall quite a few stories about those comic books,” Steve commented, winking at Phoebe.

A rosy pink flush burned her cheeks. “They are still publishing comics about you, so I figured the best way to learn about what you’ve been missing is from yourself.”

Steve let out a low rumble somewhere between a laugh and a chuckle, causing the butterflies in Phoebe’s stomach to stir. “As much fun as the comics were to read, I appreciate our lesson a lot more.”

Phoebe was flattered that her hard work seemed to be paying off. Helping Steve adjust has been nothing short of easy. And her work was still not done. Though she was very much okay with that. Spending time with Steve had become her new favorite hobby, and she found herself absorbed in their budding unspoken relationship. Phoebe wanted nothing more than for their connection to develop. But there were moments. Moments where Phoebe felt her heart tug at its strings, reminding her that her happiness with Steve was dependent on something greater than their connection.

Her secret.

Maybe she was wrong for not telling Steve about the experimentation. Maybe he wouldn’t be afraid of her. He didn’t seem like that to run away from something just because it was different from what he was accustomed to. If that were the case, he would have never accepted her help with adjusting to the modern world in the first place.

Maybe now was the time to tell him.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, Pheebs?”

 _Pheebs._ The nickname rolled off his lips as easy as it was to breathe. Breathing. Right. The very thing Phoebe had forgotten to do in the last minute. She exhaled sharply, her eyes meeting his with such an intensity that it nearly knocked the wind out of her. Steve’s eyes were very easy to read. Full of compassion and desire, yet underneath it was a softer side that brought Phoebe to her knees on the inside, forgoing any courage she had to tell him the truth.

How could she ruin this? Him?

“Would you like to try now? Searching for something on Google?”

Steve frowned slightly but nodded and took the mouse from Phoebe’s hands. _Damn it. Way to go, Phoebe._ Steve clicked on a new tab.

“I’m going to get a drink. Would you like anything?” Phoebe asked, heading for the kitchen.

“Do you have Root Beer?” Steve asked.

“Of course I do,” Phoebe said with a smile.  She reached into the bottom shelf of her refrigerator and grabbed two Barq’s Root Beer’s. She poured two glasses and came back into the living room to see how Steve was coming along.

***

On his computer screen: _Google search for “Phoebe Reynolds” (0.57 seconds). About 7,057,000 results_.  
  
New York Times-  
Dr. Richard Reynolds, Killed Outside SHIELD Headquarters  
 – December, 1996  
“On December 16, 1996, while exiting SHIELD’s NYC headquarters, lead scientist, Dr. Richard Reynolds was shot to death just after 3:00 PM. His briefcase was emptied, and blue residue was picked up at the….”  
  
New York Daily News-  
Howard Stark’s Assistant Killed on 5-Year Death Anniversary: Coincidence or Strategic?  
– December, 1996  
“Dr. Richard Reynolds, assistant to the late Howard Stark for over 25 years, was found with a bullet in his chest on December 16, 1996. This comes exactly 5 years after the death of Howard Stark…”  
  
The Times-  
Daughter of SHIELDs Late Dr. Reynolds Kidnapped  
–April 2, 2010  
“SHIELD agent Phoebe Reynolds, daughter of the late Dr. Richard Reynolds, and Iron Man, AKA Tony Stark, visited SHIELDS D.C. headquarters earlier this afternoon when Reynolds was kidnapped in what appeared to be a rogue mission gone wrong…”  
  
Brooklyn Eagle-  
SHIELD Agent Returned to the Big Apple Thanks to Iron Man  
– April 20, 2010  
“After spending more than three weeks in captivity, Agent Phoebe Reynolds has returned home and is resting comfortably thanks to her best friend, billionaire Tony Stark, who moonlights as New York’s Iron Man…”

_***_

“What exactly were you searching for?” Phoebe asked calmly, setting down the drinks on the coffee table. Betrayal? Hurt? Nothing seemed to accurately describe how she felt right now.

Steve had one hand under his chin as he scrolled through the various articles. “I thought I would find some of your short stories you told me you put on the Internet, but I guess the more important news took precedence.”

Ouch. “Steve…” Phoebe trailed off. Where could she even begin?

“I thought I recognized your last name,” Steve began, standing up with a hand on his hips. “Then I remembered. Your dad was the scientist that built the vita ray machine that transformed me, didn’t he?”

Phoebe didn’t need her powers to know that Steve was angry. “Yes. He was. I have a picture of the three of you that hangs in my bedroom if you-”

“No, I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to reminisce about the part of my life that’s over!” Steve shouted, fisting his hands in his hair before resting them on his hips again. He seemed… distraught. Possibly angry. No. Shocked. Shocked was a good word. “I was just starting to accept that the part of my life with Howard, Peggy, the Howling Commandos, all of them, was over… then I see these articles. Pages filled with information that _you_ kept from me.”

“I wasn’t intentionally keeping anything from you!” Phoebe cried out. Her eyes begged for Steve to understand, but all he saw was a girl that had been lying to him from the beginning.

“You weren’t just a SHIELD agent, were you? There’s more to you then what you’ve told me, isn’t there?” Steve hollered. Phoebe didn’t respond, so he raised his voice higher. “Isn’t there?!”

“I didn’t want to tell you everything at once. I knew it would be a lot,” Phoebe stammered. Her voice has grown more sensitive by the syllable and by the time she took a breath, the tears had already begun to spill.

Steve’s voice was calmer now. Veins that had bulged out of his neck were back where they should be, his breathing leveled. “Were you going to tell me about your father? About you and Iron Man? Were you going to tell me about being captured and left for dead?”

“I was going to tell you everything, but at the time it didn’t seem like it mattered-”

“It damn well matters! It matters to me. You matter to me. So yeah, I wanna know that you were captured. I know what it’s like to have dark secrets buried inside of you that dig at your soul until you scratch so hard to release them you bleed. Trust me, I get it. I wouldn’t have thought of you any differently. Not even if it had to do with you and Iron Man-”

Phoebe shook her head. “There was never a me and Iron Man. Someone leaked to the press that Tony and I slept together, but it never happened. I never had feelings for him like that. In fact, he and I had a bottoming out for a little while I was in the arctic trying to find you because I didn’t feel the same.”

Steve nodded, but his face remained hard. “I like you, Phoebe. A lot. But I can’t trust you if you keep secrets from me. I don’t care about your past. There’s a reason they call it your past. I care about you now. And the you right now? I don’t know. I want to trust you, Phoebe. But I can’t unless you tell me the truth. Right here, right now.”

Phoebe felt the tears roll down her cheeks as she slammed her eyes shut She didn’t want to look at Steve anymore. The pain in his eyes was overwhelming. The familiar rumble through her veins lit her insides like fire, and her hands began to tingle.

It was happening. Right here, right now.

“You want to know the truth? The entire truth?” Phoebe asked him seriously, her head and hands still turned away from his sight.

Steve’s eyes never wavered from her direction. “You can tell me, Phoebe.”

“I can’t tell you,” she answered quietly. “But I can show you.”

Phoebe turned towards him, eyes sparkling with the purple energy that beamed through her hands.

“This is my secret, Steve. I am a super soldier, too.”


	9. I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoebe opens up about her past, but is that enough to save her and Steve's relationship?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried writing the last part of this chapter... be warned.

***  
May 3, 2012  
**Steve**

Steve planted his feet to the mahogany floor like his life depended on it. What he was seeing was beyond his comprehension – bigger than Hydra, Schmidt, the Cube. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw right here, right now.

But instead of going into defense mode like his military brain deeply wanted, he stood still, watching the electrical impulses shoot through Phoebe’s arms and into her neck, fueling the purple haze covering her eyes. She still looked like Phoebe on the outside, but not Phoebe. The purple energy was consuming her.

She said something before the intensity swallowed her vocal cords. Something about super soldiers. That she _was_ a super soldier. Steve looked up at her with wide eyes.

“You’re a super soldier?” Steve asked her, fist closed tight.

Phoebe made a low groan and all the glass in her room shattered with the closing of her fists. The purple energy dissipated from her hands as she collapsed to the ground, fists slamming into the hardwood floor.

“I don’t know what I am anymore,” Phoebe answered from the ground.

Steve sighed and extended a hand to her. Their hands touched, and Steve felt an annoying tingle in his head. Once she stood upright, he yanked his hand away from her. “What the hell was that?”

“You’re suspicious,” Phoebe said weakly, coddling her torso with both hands. “And overwhelmed, unsure of what to believe.”

“And you didn’t answer either of my questions,” Steve responded. She was right. He was suspicious. The feeling he was getting pit of his stomach did not match the feelings that were in his heart right now.

“Just give me a minute.” Phoebe limped over to the couch, dropping herself on the leather material like a ragdoll. Steve honored her request, even going as far as getting her a bottle water from the fridge. “Thank you.”

“Now are you going to tell me what the hell is going on with you?”

Phoebe nodded, swallowing three gulps of the liquid. “Where do I start?” she mused, laughing at herself. Steve didn’t find it amusing.

“You said you were a super soldier. Start with that,” Steve said, his voice calm, though he did not feel like that in the least.

Phoebe looked at her hands, a small glow arising from her palms. Steve jumped, hands extended outward in defense. “Wait. It’ll stop. Just… wait.” Steve nodded, remaining upright. He watched as she twirled the purple aura through her fingers like a threaded string, tugging upwards until she encased the energy into her hand. When she opened her hand, the energy dispersed into the air, vanishing.

It was both beautiful and tragic.

“Do you remember when I told you I was sick?” Phoebe asked.

Steve remembered bits and pieces, but he had the general idea about what happened to her. “I do. I’m sorry that happened.”

“My father was tired of seeing me in so much pain. Howard’s son Tony tried everything he could to come up with a way to heal me. But none of his trials could pass for human testing. But there was one that did make it to human testing.”

“The serum,” Steve realized. “So… Richard used the serum on you?”

“With Howard’s help,” Phoebe added. “And Peggy’s. She had the key ingredient to making the serum work. Your blood.” Phoebe paused to take another drink of water. “Peggy kept all of your blood samples out fear that Hydra would send more people to steal it. But when she heard that the serum was being used to heal the little girl that she used to look after? There were no variables to think about.”

Steve briefly hung his head low to the ground before looking at her, taking it all in. “So you were close to Peggy.”

“She had a granddaughter the same age as me. Addison. I played with her two other grandchildren and Tony, too. When her great-grandchild, Sharon, was born, Peggy decided to take some time off to help her niece care for her new baby in London. Tony and I were done with school, he graduated from MIT and I was thinking about whether I could even go to college. A few years later, she flew back to the US to give us her last vial of your blood.”

Steve liked hearing that Peggy had a family. Kids. Grandkids. Nieces. Even a great-niece. It was everything he could have ever wanted for Peggy, even if it wasn’t with him. “So they mixed my blood with the serum. Then what?”

“They injected the serum into my body. Not the way you received it.” Phoebe looked down at her hands for a moment. A tear dripped from her nose and onto the wood framing of her shattered coffee table. “My condition was neurological. So they tried something new. They injected the serum into my spinal cavity and waited. But I didn’t wake up. I remember feeling trapped, like my consciousness was stuck inside me trying to break through my physical body.”

Steve realized that when Phoebe said she understand what it was like waking up in a different situation, this was it. This is what she was talking about. She didn’t intentionally keep it from him, but she certainly didn’t try to explain further. But at least she was telling the truth about trying to tell him at one point.

“That’s how I felt while I was asleep. I could hear everything that was going on, but I couldn’t do anything about it,” Steve recalled. A shiver ran down his spine at the memory of trying to scream for someone to hear him. But no one did.

Until Phoebe.

“Howard’s son, Tony, was my childhood best friend. He was there during the painful days, the good days, and the days where all I could do was look at the ceiling and cry. He never left my side, except for when I went into the coma. The day before I woke up, he told me he couldn’t imagine life without me in it and if he could, he would have traded lives with me in a heartbeat to save me from the pain.”

“Sounds like he loved you,” Steve said, walking over to the couch.

Phoebe looked exhausted, like a Mac truck had collided with her head on. Her voice was soft, barely audible. She had been leaning against the head of the couch, huddling all four limbs together against her chest. She looked vulnerable and scared, and it was tugging Steve’s heartstrings until he sat down next to her and placed a hesitant hand on her upper back, fingers splayed against his own cotton tee shirt.

“He did,” Phoebe answered softly. “Love me, that is. He’s the reason I’m here today. He saved my life.”

“He brought you out of your coma?”

Phoebe nodded, dipping her head between her legs and chest for a moment before turning her entire body to face Steve’s. “I had a good reason for not telling you, Steve. _They’re_ still out there. The day after he announced he recreated it, he died in a car crash. Tony and I both know he did not lose control in the snow. And I think you know he didn’t, either.”

“Are you talking about Hydra?” Steve asked, a brow raised. Phoebe nodded. “It still exists?”

 “Damn right it does. I think Hydra killed Stark to get the serum, but what they didn’t count on was he already used the replicated serum. On me. So he died for nothing, so did my father for that matter. Because of me.”

“It’s not your fault, darling. And they didn’t die for nothing. They freed you from your illness. Made you stronger.”

“That they did. As you well know, the serum acts by constantly regenerating your cells, so by injecting it into the source, they corrected my disease, gave me advanced healing, slowed aging-”

“And that purple glowing aura thing,” Steve interjected, even managing a small smile.

Phoebe seemed to relax a little since he sat down with her. “I can manipulate molecules. Slow molecules down so they freeze in time, speed them up until they explode, levitate air molecules. I can also interact with other’s emotions.”

“Is that how you were able to understand me while I was asleep?”

Phoebe nodded, fiddling with her fingernails. “But then I was captured…”

Steve reached for her hand, stopping her from picking at her skin. He held his hand in hers, rubbing gentle circles with the pad of his thumb.

“They did things. Somehow, I survived the torture. Then they experimented with my blood. Tony thinks whatever they did messed with my molecular structure that gave me my powers in the first place. Sometimes they work, and other times they don’t.”

Steve knew there was more to it by the way Phoebe began to cry silently. “What else?” Phoebe looked at him with mascara running down her face. Steve frowned and reached forward with his free hand, wiping away the makeup as best he could. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going anywhere, Phoebe.”

“But I am,” Phoebe sobbed. Steve drew his hand back. “Something about instability. My molecules are constantly damaging themselves, and my cells are repairing the damage before it becomes lethal. But I think my cells are having a harder time keeping up with the repairing. Every time my powers come back, they get stronger and I get weaker. If my cells can’t keep up, I’ll die.”

 _No._ Phoebe dying was _not_ an option. “Can’t Tony do something? He’s supposed to be this super genius, right?” Steve stood up, hands flying around his head, through his hair. “He can fix it, right?”

“There’s one option but it’s kinda dicey.” Phoebe wiped her tears with the hem of his shirt, black smudge marks covering the gray material.

“What is it?”

“Your blood. Tony can create an antiserum that will stabilize my molecules.”

Steve blinked. “Well, okay! Let’s go.”

Phoebe, still looking weak, stood up. “Go where?”

“To wherever Tony is so he can take whatever he needs from me to fix you!”

Phoebe wrapped her petite hands around his forearm, pulling back down to the couch. “It’s not that simple.”

Steve wasn’t understanding at all. If he was the cure, then why didn’t she just tell him from the beginning? She could be dying right now, and- _no_. Steve couldn’t even bear the thought, so he shut it out. “It is that simple. You’re taking my blood, Phoebe and that’s final.”

“It may not even work. It could potentially speed up the process,” Phoebe pleaded with him. The worry crossed her eyes and penetrated Steve hard enough to temporarily incapacitate his speech. He just stared at her, wondering what his life would be if she wasn’t there.

Steve couldn’t imagine such a life.

“So you’d rather take your chances?” Steve quipped.

“I wanted to get as much time with you as I could,” Phoebe insisted.

Steve shook his head. “I can’t believe this,” he murmured in disbelief. He looked at her, and when their eyes met, Steve knew she’d made her decision. A decision that he couldn’t accept. “No. You’re talking as if you’re dying. You’re not dying, damn it!”

“For the record, this is exactly why I wasn’t keen on telling you about this part of my life.”

“And when your powers imploded on you during the finale of the Vampire Diaries, you think I wouldn’t want to know _why_? I’ve already lost several people I-” Steve stopped, shaking his head. “I’m done losing people I care about.”

“You haven’t lost me, Steve,” Phoebe reasoned.

Steve bit his tongue. He managed to keep his cool during most of this conversation, but that was slowly going out the window. “I can’t do this,” he decided, and he already had one hand on the door handle.

“Steve?”

Steve blinked back the sting of his tears, turning so he could just make her out with his peripheral vision. “If you’re going to insist on killing yourself, that’s your choice. But don’t ask me to sit on the sidelines and watch. I can’t do that,” he said, then looked at her. Her eyes begged him to stay. Tears pooled on the floorboard. She looked absolutely broken. He turned away, her pleading gaze becoming too much as he let out a painful sigh. “I’m sorry, Phoebe.”

With that, Steve opened the door, leaving behind his broken heart as he walked out.


	10. Incognito

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets saddening news and recruits help.

***  
May 3, 2012  
**Phoebe**

Did they just… breakup? Before they even got together?

If it weren’t for the lack of energy, Phoebe would have followed right behind Steve and coaxed him to come back. But she was exhausted. She was pretty sure her heart wasn’t supposed to be skipping beats at such a regular pace, but she decided it was the stress of their conversation and not the fun little fact that her cells were not repairing themselves as fast as they used to.

She was essentially deteriorating from the inside out.

_Damn it._

She limped into her bedroom, using the walls to steady herself until she reached the edge of her memory foam bed, sinking into the material with a loud sigh.

She was unconscious before she could take another breath.

***  
May 5, 2012  
**Steve**

Steve woke up to a knock at the door. Still half asleep, he shuffled through his apartment and looked through the peephole. No one was at the door. He opened it slowly, seeing his laptop at his doorstep with a card attached to it. He brought it to the kitchen where he opened the card.

_Steve,  
By the time you read this, I will be gone on a classified mission. I know you said you didn’t want to sit on the sidelines. I get that. I never wanted to put you in this kind of position. I thought I was doing what was best by not telling you about my past. I can see now that I was wrong, and for that, I’m sorry. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in the 42 years I’ve been on this Earth. I’ve lied to the point that I started to believe the lies I was telling. But the one thing I never lied about was the person I became when I was with you. Every story I told you, every memory I shared, they were all true. And my feelings for you? I couldn’t make those up even if I tried. But not everyone gets a happy ending. I truly am sorry for everything I’ve put you through. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Please don’t look for me. I don’t want you to get hurt. On your laptop are a few lessons I threw together for you. _

_I don’t regret knowing you, Steve. I only regret you not getting the chance to know me._

_Yours always,  
Phoebe_

Steve refused to think that she would up and leave without saying goodbye. He walked over to her apartment, finding her door wide open and the inside completely empty.

She was really gone.

Steve briefly closed his eyes as the tears stung, his hands balled into fists. He barely registered the ache in his hand as it connected with the wall, punching a hole straight through into her bedroom. Everything was gone. Her furniture, her pictures, her TV. The only thing that remained was her Three Stooges DVD set that was cleverly sitting on the counter with another note attached.  
  
_For you.  
-P_

Steve knew what he had to do.

But he couldn’t do it alone. He stormed back to his apartment, shuffling through the files that were splayed all over the kitchen. The Howling Commandos, Peggy, Howard…There it was.

Tony Stark, aka Iron Man.  
Status: Alive  
Notable Marks: Arc Reactor embedded in his chest cavity preventing shrapnel from reaching aorta.  
Known for: Superior intellect, CEO of Stark Industries (1992-2010), Former Weapons Consultant for United States Government (1992-2008).

Steve searched for an address, a phone number, anything to help track him down, but there was nothing that could help. Then he noticed his computer on the opposite side of the table. He sighed, knowing he’d eventually have to use that thing sooner or later. He turned it on, went to Chrome, and saw the google search bar ready and waiting for him.

Search for: Tony Stark; About 62,700,000 results (0.59 seconds)

Oh, god. This was going to take a while. Wait. What’s this?

CNN – about 3 hours ago  
Tony Stark Begins Renovation of Stark Tower in Manhattan  
  
That was interesting. Phoebe never mentioned that Tony was local. Steve jotted down Stark Tower’s address. Recalling Howard, Steve remembered he was quite the ladies man back then. Steve could only imagine what his son was like.

There was only one way to find out. Steve grabbed his brown leather jacket and left the apartment complex.

***  
May 5, 2012  
**Phoebe**

“You understand this mission is long-term, Agent?” Fury asked Phoebe as they walked towards the hangers.

“I understand,” she said. “I want this. I need this, sir.”

Fury stopped and turned to look at her, his one eye studying her very carefully. “Is everything alright?”

No. “Yes, sir,” Phoebe replied, feigning a smile. “I’m fine. I’m just eager to work with Nat and Clint again. We’re the best recovery team out there, so you can count on us to find this terrorist.”

“I’d expect nothing less from the three of you,” Fury said. “If you need backup, use the transponder in your suit. We’ve made a few upgrades for you.”

Phoebe did notice something was different about her suit. Her top was black with lines of fuchsia embedded throughout. Her gloves were an added bonus, fingerless and stretchy. Most likely flame resistant because of her powers. She wasn’t complaining about the updated weapons and grappling hooks either.

Phoebe boarded the quinjet. Clint and Nat jumped out from the corners and tackled her.

“Surprise!” They yelled in unison. Phoebe laughed and encased them both in a hug.

“Welcome back!” Natasha squealed.

“Finally! Are you back for good?” Clint asked.

Phoebe nodded. “Okay, breathing. Need… oxygen.” They released her, apologizing. “I’m back for good, Clint. I did my job with Rogers and now I’m ready to dive back in to work.”

Steve. Phoebe felt the pang in her heart, trying her best to ignore it. Clint took the first shift of flying, leaving Natasha and Phoebe alone in the back of the carrier.

“So… details, Agent!” Natasha exclaimed. “What was it like being around your childhood hero?”

Phoebe expected questions to come from Natasha, but not right away. She wasn’t prepared to be grilled about Steve yet. “Well, it was nice. He was really nice. And very naïve about almost everything. It was cute.”

Natasha frowned. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re not telling me everything?”

“Because you’re slightly paranoid?”

“Or because I’m right.”

Phoebe sighed. “There’s nothing to tell, Nat. Just drop it, okay?”

“Obviously something happened, or you wouldn’t have a problem talking about it,” Natasha reasoned with her. “I know you really liked him. Enough that you were willing to risk your health.”

Phoebe glanced at the floor.

“You did have Tony fix your powers after Steve woke up, right?” Natasha asked. Phoebe didn’t answer. Natasha’s eyes widened. “Phoebe! Are you crazy? What if you collapse out in the field? Or worse… what if you die?”

“I’m not gonna die. Not yet, anyway,” Phoebe said.

“Do you have a death wish? Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen if you don’t get it fixed.”

“If his blood sped up the process, I would be dead right now. I just wanted more time with him,” Phoebe admitted, and her eyes welled with tears. “I can’t even get a hold of his blood now anyway.”

Natasha furrowed her brows. “Why not?”

“He left. Told me he wasn’t going to sit back and watch me kill myself.”

Natasha sighed, reaching for Phoebe’s hands and holding them in her lap. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault,” Phoebe cried, sniffling back the tears. “I was selfish, and it’s because I was selfish that Steve’s gone, and I have no chance at getting better.” A brief pause. “When my powers come back, it’s like it takes over. I can’t control my thoughts, my limbs, anything. Just power, and lots of it. If I lose control, I could really hurt someone…”

“We won’t let you,” Natasha promised her. “We’ll figure this out, okay?”

Phoebe nodded and pulled Natasha in for a hug. “Thank you.”

Natasha held onto her, rubbing her back gently. “Of course, Pheebs. I got your back no matter what.”

Phoebe smiled. At least she had someone.

***  
May 5, 2012  
**Steve**

Steve made it to Stark Tower, which was directly in front of the café where he and Phoebe visited. The construction process was coming along, the outer structure built, but windows still missing in parts. Hangers with workers were seen from all angles. Steve walked up to the entrance but was stopped by two men in suits.

“No entrance,” one of them said in a robotically rehearsed tone.

“Is Mr. Stark here? I need to speak with him.”

“Do you have an appointment?” the other man asked in a normal voice.

“No, but I need to see him. It’s urgent. Just let me talk to him and I promise it will be worth his while,” Steve said.

“No entrance means no entrance,” the first guard reiterated.

“It’s about his best friend. Please, if you tell him it’s about Phoebe-”

“If you don’t leave the premises in one minute, the local police will be called,” the second said darkly.

Steve realized he was getting through. He sighed and nodded to the two men before leaving the area. He went to the café and sat down, figuring out his next move. If he couldn’t get to Stark that way, how was he going to do it? He was Captain America, after all. There had to be an alternate way to get up to the penthouse.

Steve had subconsciously doodled on the edge of a napkin while he thought about what he could do to find Phoebe. “Wherever you are, Pheebs, I promise… I’ll find you,” Steve muttered under his breath, glancing at the picture.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164896365@N05/28648092448/in/dateposted-public/)

“So, you’re an artist? That’s cool,” a voice called out to him. Steve turned and saw a man standing above him dressed incognito.

“Excuse me?” Steve asked, looking at the man. The man lifted his glasses just enough for Steve could see that it was Tony Stark.

Tony sat across from Steve, placing his hands on the table. “So you’re the man my father never shut up about.”

Steve raised a brow. “Depends on who Howard was talking about.”

“Captain America,” Tony said, a slightly bite to his voice. “The world’s first superhero.”

“Then I guess you’re right,” Steve answered. “And you’re Phoebe’s best friend. The genius.”

“I’m a lot of things. Genius, billionaire. I moonlight as other things,” Tony said with a shrug.

“Iron Man,” Steve remarked with a smug look on his face. A few other customers glanced in their direction.

“So much for incognito,” Tony said, taking off the hat. “Come with me.” Steve followed Tony to a back alley, where Tony stepped inside his Iron Man suit. Once it powered on, he grabbed Steve’s hand and they jetted off into the sky.

People clapped and shouted at Stark. He waved and pretended to fire a repulsor, making the loud sound that everyone enjoyed hearing. Then he landed on his penthouse walkway, dropping Steve in the corner with a thud.

Steve spun backwards before hitting his back against the wall. “Gee, thanks for the smooth landing,” he groaned, standing up.

“You’ve been hit harder than that,” Tony replied when his helmet came off.

Steve watched him removing the parts of the Iron Man suit in awe. Technology at its finest, Steve thought.

“So, our little Pheebs is in trouble,” Tony said, walking with him into the penthouse. “Want a drink?”

“Sure,” Steve said, sitting down on a futon. “And yes, she is.”

“We’re just going to take your blood now so that way when we find her, we just shove it in her arm before she notices,” Tony said. He sounded frustrated. And angry. Which Steve could relate to. Tony handed the bottle of beer to Steve and took a seat next to him. “So what’d she do?”

“She was teaching me how to use a computer and I googled her,” Steve admitted, looking down at his beer and taking a swig.

Tony laughed. “Yeah, not the best way to make an impression,” he said. Steve just looked at him, confused. “Wait. When you say you googled her…”

“I typed her name in the search bar and all of this information popped up that she never told me about. You, your father’s death, her father’s death, being kidnapped and found by her best friend, which happened to be my friend’s son. It was just a lot of information that she kept from me.”

“And you thought she did this on purpose?” Tony asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes.”

Once again, Tony laughed. Steve was finding it very annoying. “Phoebe has a big heart. She will do whatever it takes to protect people, even at the expense of her own life.”

“Yeah, I noticed that when I got a letter that said she left on a mission so I didn’t have to sit back and watch her die.” Steve let out a painful sigh. “I walked out. That’s on me. But if the answer she was looking for was right by her the entire time, why didn’t she just tell me?”

“I don’t know, pal,” Tony said honestly. Steve tossed him a look. “What?”

“Howard used to call me pal,” Steve shrugged. “It’s strange. Knowing that he had a kid.”

“Yeah, and as said kid, I can honestly say he was not father material,” Tony replied.

Steve chuckled. “So, do you have any idea how to find Phoebe?”

Tony smiled. “I’m so glad you asked because I certainly do.” He jumped up and tapped a few buttons on a device that sat on the inside of his wrist. A holographic map appeared above the coffee table. “This red dot,” he pointed to it, “is Phoebe. I installed a GPS on her suit, which Fury gave to her today. I figured she’d go back to SHIELD eventually. She gets bored easily.”

“Fury knows the situation?”

“Fury knows everything,” Tony said. “Rule number one. He is the spy. His secrets have secrets. Just remember that for the future.”

“Now all I need is a suit,” Steve said, sighing. “Where the hell am I gonna get one of those? SHIELD has mine from when I was frozen.”

“My father, God rest his cold-hearted soul, kept everything from World War II, including- wait for it!” Tony ran downstairs and came back with a box that said “STEVE” on it. Inside, he pulled out a blue and red bodysuit. “Here ya go, Cap.”

“Oh god,” Steve groaned, remembering those atrocious days as a chorus girl. “Not the USO suit.”

“It’s the only suit we’ve got,” Tony said with a shrug.

Steve walked into the bathroom and changed. “I swear to god, Stark, if you laugh at me, I will punch you out of the building.”

From outside, Steve could hear a faint, “I won’t laugh. Scout’s honor,” before he opened the door and stepped out.

Tony Stark was such a liar.  
_  
_


	11. One Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoebe loses control during a mission. Tony and Steve team up to find Phoebe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by the song, "Hold On" by Chord Overstreet.  
> Link to song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ofCZObsnOo

_Loving and fighting_  
_Accusing, uniting_  
_I can't imagine a world with you gone_  
_The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of_  
_I'd be so lost if you left me alone_

_\- Hold On (I Still Need You) by Chord Overstreet_

***  
May 6, 2012  
**Natasha**

It would’ve been a clean extraction.

Clint takes out the guards, Natasha covers the left wing. Phoebe covers the right wing. They went over the plan three times – count it, three – before they landed a few clicks from the location. Natasha was confident in their plan. For a while, at least.

Until Phoebe collapsed in the middle of battle.

The purple aura surrounding Phoebe’s body didn’t glow until she hit the ground, disrupting the cement beneath it and sending radial cracks throughout the yard. The guards protecting their target were distracted long enough for Clint to take them out like planned, but now they were down an agent.

Natasha had a job to do, but she had an obligation to her friend. Also, she’d never seen Phoebe glow so damn much in her life. Something was _obviously very wrong_.

“Phoebe?” Natasha whispered, trying not to blow their cover. Phoebe was on the ground, unconscious. Clint was coming up on Natasha’s left. She flagged him down. “We need to get her back to the jet before we proceed with the extraction.”

“If our target comes out here and finds his men on the ground, our mission is over. We don’t have time,” Clint said.

Of course, they don’t have time. Time was never on their side when it came to missions. Natasha rolled forward to Phoebe and checked for a pulse. It was fast and unstable, and she looked very pale. Things weren’t looking good.

“Okay, Phoebe, time to get up,” Natasha whimpered as she tried to pick up Phoebe’s limp body. Phoebe was heavier than she thought, and she only managed to roll Phoebe so she was face-up. “Come on, kiddo, wake up.”

_“Attacke!”_

Natasha heard the German dialect coming at them from all sides. Clint fired an arrow at the men and it separated into three arrows, taking out half of the guards. Natasha fired two guns at a time.

“Phoebe!” Natasha cried. “We need you! Get your ass up or I swear to God I will light a fire under your ass!”

If threatening Phoebe was all it took to awaken her, Natasha would have done it a long time ago. Phoebe shot up from the ground and fired a beam of purple energy blasts at two of the men, incinerating them on impact. Natasha ran up to the third, punching him in the face then kicking him into the ashes of his fellow guards.

Natasha turned to thank Phoebe, but what she discovered had effectively muted her. Phoebe was drenched in a purple aura, her eyes beaming with electric hypnotic purple waves. Electricity shot through her arms, neck, chest, everywhere, mapping her veins to the tiniest blood vessel. Natasha gulped.

“Phoebe, you okay?” Natasha pitched in a shaky breath.

Phoebe didn’t blink. She looked at Natasha, but Natasha swore there was nothing but pure power in her stare. Nothing about it was Phoebe. It was something else entirely.

“Phoebe, listen to me. Your powers are unstable. If you let us, we can help you. We can get you to Tony so Steve can heal you. You want to see Steve, right?”

Phoebe growled at Natasha. Actually _growled_ at her. Natasha backed away slowly, hands in the air.

“Okay. If you’re not going to listen to me, maybe you’ll listen to this.” Natasha swung at Phoebe, but the aura redistributed the swing and flung Natasha into the bushes nearby.

Clint fired an arrow at her, but Phoebe flicked her wrist, exploding the arrow into little pieces. Clint kicked at the aura-like shield, but it redistributed and sent him flying as well. Phoebe waved her hands and dispersed the aura. Natasha flipped forward and landed a jab at Phoebe’s jaw. Phoebe fended off her attacks, but Clint managed to land several blows to Phoebe’s back, forcing her to the ground.

“These were for the terrorist, but…” Natasha reached behind her, pulling a pair of metallic cuffs out.

Phoebe hissed in a vibrantly hypnotic tone that sounded nothing like herself. Natasha was thrown backwards in mid-air.

“Whoa! Since when does she have telekinesis?” Clint gasped, firing arrows at her which she held up a shield to deflect.

“Since her powers took over her body,” Natasha groaned, taking out a gun. She fired a shot at Phoebe, but she turned the bullet into ash just as it was about to hit her shoulder. Natasha’s heart pounded against her chest. They were no match for Phoebe at full strength. “She’s really powerful. I don’t think guns and arrows are gonna cut it. We need Stark.”

“Seek and you shall find,” Clint huffed, glancing at the sky. Iron Man loomed over the horizon carrying what looked like another figure holding a triangular shield.

“It’s like he’s listening to us,” Natasha said to Clint with a grimace.

Iron Man landed next to Natasha, and next to him was none other than Captain America in his 1945 USO uniform and metal shield.

“Nice cosplay,” Clint chuckled, nodding to Cap.

Captain America seemed puzzled. “Cosplay?”

“It’s where fans dress up as their favorite characters. It’s a thing,” Iron Man answered in his metallic echo. Natasha imagined him rolling his eyes at the 90-year-old hero. “So, what’s going on with Pheebs? She looks… not like herself.”

Phoebe was kneeling on the ground, holding her chest tightly as if she were having a heart attack. Her aura was gone, but her body was still covered in electricity, pumping in sync with her heartbeat.

“She was fine and then she just collapsed. The she turned into _that_. Her powers are crazy. She accessing powers that none of us knew she was packing,” Natasha said. “Clint and I have to take down this terrorist before he escapes. Do you two think you can handle her?”

“We have the formula. If we can get close enough to her, we can inject it and she should revert back to normal” Tony said. Natasha was not liking his confidence levels.

“Should? No, it _has_ to, Stark. Do you see what she is right now? She is like an over heating car that’s ready to blow! She doesn’t even know who she is right now! It has to work!”

Steve walked up to Natasha and put his large hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look through his helmet. “I promise we will do everything we can to save her. Trust me when I say that I will personally do _whatever_ it takes to save her.”

“You love her,” Natasha huffed, looking deep into his steel blue eyes. She could smell it from a mile away.

“I…” Steve looked at Phoebe. “I can’t lose her, too.”

Natasha looked at Phoebe, too. Her power was growing at an alarming rate, which meant Phoebe was weakening just as quickly. “Get that antiserum in her _now_.”

***  
May 6, 2012  
**Tony**

Never in their friendship, had Phoebe purposely attacked him. But Phoebe took a swing at his armor, knocking him through the wall of the palace. He fired his repulsors at her, but she deflected them back in his direction. He just barely dodged them.

Steve briefly closed his eyes, muttering a quick apology before knocking Phoebe hard across the face, sending her flying across the front yard into a bird bath. Phoebe glared at Steve, her emitting purple electricity embedded energy and zapping Steve’s shield. The metal electrocuted him backwards.

 _Bad move_ , Tony thought.

“Alright, Cap, you need to tell your girl to knock this shit off before I get pissed,” Tony snarled.

Steve looked at Phoebe then back at Tony. “I don’t even think she recognizes us.”

“Well, then let’s remind her,” Tony said. He unlocked his helmet. “Hey! Phoebe! Remember me?”

Phoebe tilted her head and raised her glowing hands. The air in front of Tony’s eyes blew up, and he dropped to his hands and knees just in time to avoid the blast.

“Does that mean she recognizes you or that she doesn’t?” Steve asked.

Tony glared at him as he stood up. “Alright, you know what? I’m not gonna fight you, Phoebe. You know why? Because you’re my best friend. You’re my one-person phone call. The only person I’d call if I was stuck in jail after a long night of partying. I know you remember those phone calls, Phoebe!”

Phoebe hissed and fired at Tony, but he held up his armored hand, absorbing the energy shock. Smoke fluttered through the air, but Tony stood tall, not backing away in the least.

“I told you I loved you and you rejected me. And that hurt. It did. I’m not gonna lie and say my ego wasn’t bruised because it was. But do you remember what you told me? You told me that there was someone out there that has dealt with my bullshit for about as long as you have and her name was Pepper. Because of you, I can see a future with somebody. You did that, Pheebs!”

Phoebe howled. She closed her fists and brought them down to the ground, erupting the Earth from under her. Tony fell on his back while Steve managed to steady himself. Tony hit his head hard against the broken piece of the bird bath. He was out cold.

***  
May 6, 2012  
**Steve**

Steve reached into the compartment of Tony’s suit that held the syringe. Hiding it in one of his belt pockets, he started to walk towards Phoebe.

“I know you have a lot of power in you right now, Phoebe,” Steve started. “But I also know that _you_ are stronger than anything. No amount of power can take that inner strength from you. I know that you can fight this!”

Phoebe looked at Steve and snarled, but she kept her hands embedded into the ground. Little electric shocks echoed under the ground, shocking Steve every few seconds.

“Damn it, Phoebe!” Steve clutched at his side where she nicked him pretty good. The electricity opened the wound further each time it shocked him. “Why would you do this to yourself?” Steve limped forward. “You’re Phoebe Reynolds. You are a SHEILD agent, and the best writer I’ve ever seen. Your favorite color is blue, and you love spaghetti and meatballs, but only if the meatballs are turkey. I know you’re sad that you missed the finale of the _Vampire Diaries_ , but as soon as you’re better, we’ll watch it together because I know that’s all you wanted to do. You just wanted more time with me.”

Phoebe shrieked an electric scream that forced Steve to cover his ears, gritting his teeth as his eardrums bled through his fingers. He didn’t give up on her. He couldn’t. He made a promise.

“I know that because that’s all I want, too. More time. I want to be there to watch another four seasons of _Vampire Diaries_ with you. I want to learn how to text and use the Facebook so I can send you those funny picture video things you tell me about. Emojis, right? You’ve been through hell and back and you’re still standing.”

Phoebe’s hands glitched, the electricity in the Earth ceasing and allowed Steve to stand up to his full height. Steve saw the flicker of Phoebe’s eyes shift between normal and purple. She lifted Steve and thrashed him against the palace multiple times. Each time, a little harder until Steve managed to dive away from her powers.

“I may have been your hero, Phoebe,” Steve panted, standing up despite every bone in his body telling him to lie down, “but you’re _my_ hero, darling. You always have been and you always will be. Even if you kill me today, I’ll die knowing that you were my hero. And that’s enough for me to want to save you.”

Phoebe screamed in pain and knelt to the ground. Her hands lifted into the air, the power inside of her dissipating into the skyline. Her eyes returned to normal and she fell forward with a loud thump. Behind her, Tony panted heavily, holding the empty syringe in his hand.

Steve looked down at his belt, noticing a hole where the syringe had once taken up residence. Oops.

Phoebe clenched her jaw and the blue liquid made its way through her veins, replacing the purple energy. Once it fed through her entire system, she relaxed, blinking back several tears.

“Phoebe?” Steve called out to her.

“Steve?” Phoebe sat up with help. “Tony? What are you guys doing here?”

“Saving you,” Tony replied with a smile.

“Oh,” Phoebe breathed. “I needed saving?”

“You don’t remember?” Steve asked.

“No,” Phoebe admitted, surveying the damage. “Oh my god. Did I do this?”

“Yeah, but if it helps, those guys were dead when we got here,” Tony said, pointing to the security guards.

“I remember that,” Phoebe said. “When you guys came in is still a little fuzzy.”

“Tony built the upgrades in your suit,” Steve began.

“And when Steve came me saying you were in trouble, I hacked into your suit’s GPs,” Tony added.

“Fury got the notification of the hack and called Tony, who told him about the situation. Natasha and Clint were alerted, but they were already fighting you when they got the call,” Steve chimed in.

“We were already on our way to your location and managed to stop you from hurting them so they could go get your terrorist guy,” Tony finished. “I think that’s everything. Right?” He glanced at Steve.

“I think so,” Steve said. “So you don’t remember anything Tony and I told you?”

Phoebe shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. Was it important?”

Tony and Steve looked at each other. Steve was a tad disappointed that she wouldn’t know what he told her, but that just meant he had to tell her all over again, which was perfectly fine with him. Maybe he could plan a nice date and tell her how he truly felt.

***  
May 6, 2012  
**Phoebe**

Phoebe reached for them, intertwining both of her hands with Steve and Tony. A familiar twinge hit her stomach, and underneath their grasp, she felt both of their aura intertwine hers just like their fingers. She felt Tony’s emotions telling her that he was glad to have her as a friend, grateful for all that she had done for him. She closed her eyes, feeling something deeper within her empathy. She was unlocking something more powerful than she’d ever experienced.

 _“You’re my one-person phone call. The only person I’d call if I was stuck in jail after a long night of partying._ _Because of you, I can see a future with somebody.”_

Phoebe felt his thoughts press against her skull. She looked at Tony with watery eyes, and the look he gave told her that he understood. He offered a gentle smile and nodded towards Steve.

When Phoebe laid her eyes on Steve, the room spun from his emotions.

_“I want to be there to watch another four seasons of Vampire Diaries with you. You’re my hero. You always have been and always will be.”_

“Oh my god,” Phoebe rasped. “I could feel your emotions. Your thoughts. I actually _heard_ what you were thinking.”

Steve looked at Tony. “Does that mean the antiserum failed?”

“We won’t know more until we get back to the Tower, but I doubt it failed. If it did she’d still be trying to kill us,” Tony said.

“It was crazy,” Phoebe breathed, still intertwining her fingers with theirs. “To feel your exact thoughts. It was like I was closer to you both than I ever thought I could be.” She looked at Steve. “I had no Idea you felt that way.” Then she looked at Tony. “And do you really want to settle down with Pepper?”

“I do,” Tony admitted. For the first time in his life he was acting shy.

“I’m so sorry for everything,” Phoebe said as she grazed over the damage she caused. “I was extremely selfish and because of that, I almost killed the four most important people in my life.”

“It takes more than that to kill us,” Natasha said coming out of the palace with Clint, holding the terrorist. “Also, the target is secured. Crisis averted.”

Phoebe looked at the man in all black with a ski mask on. “It’s like 100 degrees out here. Isn’t he hot?”

“Like the flames of hell,” Clint said with a smirk. “Which is exactly where this scumbag is going after his lifetime prison sentence is up.”

“In all seriousness I am sorry. I should have come to you earlier,” Phoebe said. She leaned into Steve’s chest and rested her head on his star.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re safe, Germany has one less American terrorist, and no one was hurt,” Steve reasoned.

On the other side of Phoebe, Tony groaned. “Speak for yourself. I don’t have super healing.”

“Oh hush you’ll be fine, Stark,” Natasha chided.

“I guess it’s time to go home,” Steve said. He looked at Phoebe. “Ready?”

Phoebe wanted to go home with Steve and Tony so bad. She looked at Natasha and Clint and realized that not everything worked out in their favor.

“I want to, but I think I’m needed here,” Phoebe said. “Our mission isn’t over yet.”

“Well, maybe we can help,” Steve offered. They both stood, and he took Phoebe in his arms, resting his head on hers. “I don’t wanna leave ya, doll. I just got you back.”

“Steve,” Phoebe said, putting a hand on his cheek. “You’re not going to lose me. But my place is here. At least for now.”

“And when your mission is over?” Steve pressed, eyes hopeful and bright.

Phoebe leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Then you better be waiting for me at home.”

“Home is wherever you are, sweetheart,” Steve responded, holding her tight. “But I will wait for you. For as long as It takes.”

Phoebe let a single tear slip onto Steve’s uniform before she pulled away, wiping the remaining tears from the corner of her eyes. Tony was still in his Iron Man suit but Phoebe still walked up to him and hugged the clunky metal armor.

“Thanks for saving me. _Again_ ,” Phoebe said with a wink.

“Always, Sparks,” Tony said. “I’m gonna get sir capsicle home before he melts in this heat.”

Steve tossed him a glare then gave Phoebe one last hug, kissing her forehead tenderly. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“You can count on it,” Phoebe swore. “Nice suit by the way, babe. It fits you.”

“You’ll never see this thing again,” Steve said with a scowl, chuckling.

“I thought it was kind of hot,” she said, giggling.

“Really?” Steve raised a brow, blushing.

“Cap!” Tony yelled, donning his Iron Man helmet. “Iron Man is leaving with or without ya!”

Phoebe laughed as Steve walked over to Tony, who scooped Steve up bridal style. Phoebe quickly got out her phone and took a picture of it for good measure. She waved goodbye as her men jetted off in the sunset.

“Admit it,” Natasha said, following her gaze. “You want him to wear the suit in bed.”

Phoebe promised herself that once she and Steve get to that point in their relationship, she would, indeed, make him wear the suit in the bedroom.

One day.

~fin~


End file.
